angeles

small sexless boy thing dangles in sun beams, you
look at stars & feel silly for an open mouth on you.

why the 'comes out's don't sound angelic; a bathrobe
meant to be tied, blue but darker blue when wet,

or white skin looks fat when you fold, pretty like
groove the small blonde hairs together to fur it.

send telepathic e-mails to the brain accounts
of simple minded hunter-gatherer types, maybe laugh &

let the message kindle
while you take jerk-motion steps
through the air.