Creation

Cosmos heart the Angel makes me:
he reaches into infinity with dripping
starlight hands, shapes lithe limbs
and Mother of Life curves, nebula
veins and a pulsing solar heart –
my body is a universe unto itself,
he reaches into the Abyss, pulls me out
I am born into Heaven and Eden is me.

The Demon watches from the shade of apple
trees, lays a hand on his Brother and folds
origami wings of white aether, places them
on my still-dripping golden back, Creation
is in my ribs, I am Their fledgling, a mix
of glory and shadow, all supernova and wormhole,
unused to legs and arms, flex hands, take flight.

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