Angel Flowers

White like lustreless silk,
Angel flowers hang
With all others of their ilk
In a natural vibrant song,
Trumpet things of bright
Colours and hidden spiked harm,
Populating a grove of calm
Apparent…

Stepping into their midst is wild,
Misty panic alive in the blood,
Conjured by dire gods
And relics of the flood
Sent by Yahweh.

Hanging, hanging,
Nooses themselves,
Datura Stramonium dreaming
In their strange health,
Poison in every part,
And by paradox,
Reactivating the heart.

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