ANGELS ARE MONSTERS AND MEN

He licks your face, hot saliva burning into your hollow cheek. He smiles and simpers, you are ancient dust and ashes to him, you are his monster in hiding - pink skin, pale, pale eyes. His fingers dance, your heart flutters, you smile, he frowns. The double doors of your life are open, floods are silent but steady. You whisper the incantations of love, the spells of hate. He smiles and frowns in ripples, time waving and moulding into your life. You are stitched together with him: angel and demon, monster and child. His lips pucker and his tongue hangs low, saliva drips from his quivering lips, lips that mould themselves around your beating heart. So little flesh and gristle, yet so much life, and force of life. We are whispers in the night, we are spells upon lips, mumbling in the breeze, shouts behind closed doors. He trails your collarbone with his thin bony fingers, calloused pads scratching along your cool skin. You catch your breath, as you always do...and then continue with the incantations of love, the spells of hate. Angels are lovers and demons, angels are monsters and men.