by lei
from where I sit I swear the angels see me
as strangers preach of God
or whatever pain or peace ascribed to Him
I swear the angels
they see me hidden
behind the comfort of ivory sounds
alone
staring into the lid lock bar of a stranger's baby grand
I swear they see my eyes seeing
suspension
--that wooden bar
a deadly beam from some precarious construction zone
whose fate I imagine impaled in flesh
aimed at the bridge between my eyes
glued still,
but slipping
with every falter of my resolve not to join them
yet