Angel by Lostgirl  Adapted by Erin Halfelven

He stands in my doorway, 
Will you go to lunch with me?

I ask rather that we walk outside. 
He watches as I stand, as I walk.
He slips my hand into his empty one.  
My thumb brushes the warm,yellow gold.  
He had once taken it off for me.  
See, the mark would still be there, he said.  
I was satisfied.

He wants to sit and I choose 
A place in the sun. Aren't you warm? 

The building is cold, this feels good, 
I tell him. I have slipped so quietly 
Into his empty hours and empty arms.  
He tells me I am the rain to nourish 
His parched soul, but do I not also 
Cling onto the tender leaves during my journey, 
Relishing their velvet caresses?

Have I have not meandered 
Into quiet nooks here and there 
To claim a moment of precious shelter?  
I am very aware that 
I am not the one who gently 
Etched the path I travel.  Against 
My cheek brushes an echo of true love.  


The skeptic, I have only to look over 
His shoulder to see the angel. She smiles 
At me and offers me a seat by her fire.  
I keep returning, to warm myself.  
I have been feeling so cold.  
I cannot stay long, I tell her.  
She nods.  She is satisfied.

Gratitude pools up in my eyes.  What's wrong?  
The sun, I'm not used to being in the sun.  
We could go inside, he says.  No, I don't mind,
I need to spend more time in the sun.  The angel 
Is still there, she is in his every touch, every kiss.  
I receive offerings that had been set aside for her.  

Or am I a gift to him?  Angel, 
What am I supposed to do?  
What are we supposed to do?

"Live," she replied.