Angels in Hiding

The first thing he found was a

Seashell in the


That was the first indicator.


It had remnants of moonlight wedged on its surface

From millennia’s last night.

It wore its ridges well.

An exoskeleton of what used to be.

It may have seen creatures we never knew existed—

Maybe worlds.


In the desert, he thought of giants.

Never was a place so perpetual.

It made sense that giants dug canyons to create shortcuts

To get to work where they hung constellations in the sky

That’s why there are plateaus, steps to a higher power.

They are the real heroes of the world—

Reminding us to look up. They never anticipated the streetlights

Or that we would rather watch our steps than jump.


He felt this before

And that was the second indicator.


When the last of the cliffs of San Pedro trickled down

To kiss the oceans—

Its ever after;

That was the first time he spread his wings and attempted desperately

To go home.

And he was punished—

Wings removed until he found a solution.



it’s all going to shit.



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