She appeared to us naked, she shared our sexless form.
No marks of maleness.
No maternal marks either.
A smooth body just like the angels, just without the holy glow.
Her wings were still there,
How strange,
That she could still
Float in air.
But the shine and the rust
revealed the truth
her wings were of metal
white metal, like tooth.
"Your insight, your power, still lives," she said
"Angels are angels, no matter
how far from their heaven home."
When she spoke it was
that old heavenly hum,
like choirs of all ages
Heavenly, harmony, hum.
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