Off the Spectrum
legs slightly obtuse
a perfect copy of a boy but
with angles. My mixed up angel.
face in stained glass
windows, followed him through frescoes
in Assisi. Wept at his embodiment in stone.
Heard him count down the desolate hours before birth.
to decode the
message that whistles
through the gap in his teeth, as his
limbs lengthen, his brain grows bigger than
a planet. I am the watch woman as he journeys through
this night, pulling strings to the unwired corners of his mind.