From above

From above

Climb the dust motes
to the ceiling
look down upon
the exposed roots
of our tangled fingers
and twisted limbs

gently glowing
angels dipped from full-beam
a fog feeding upon us
mycelium fuzzes our edges
blurring where I end
and you begin

we decided
to fall together
feathers became flames
hit the ground
wrapped in each other
hands and halos
fused in the fire

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