all this empty

And the first angel wept, wet feathers and bent knees.

All this glory, and what for. All this empty, and what it would become.

…

The answer, the unfurling of wings, the millennia to pass.

What will happen if I stay here.

…

Let me dry your wings. Stand up.

There is a story to be told. You are here to tell it.

…

© 2015 Anna-Christina Betekhtin, All Rights Reserved.