Across my corn-yellow sheets of warm cotton,
upon my nothing fancy kind of bed,
she grins and splays herself out.

Her wings unseen, beneath her gleaming body
and every little tuck & fold of her sleek skin.

She says it's more comfortable on my rickety bed,
that it's nicer than hers- and bigger too.

She likes it because it smells like me,
least, that's what she tells me.

Invitingly, she smiles to me and beckons with a long-fingered hand
a momentary hesitation, she pouts at me because she knows I'm teasing.

I slip across the expanse between us, between my pagan angel
and me.

It must be awkward for her to get tops that fit around her wings,
but then again, she says it's only me that can see them
because everyone else thinks angels are just christian
or that they don't exist.

My pagan angel, in blue jeans and a black t-shirt adorned with skulls,
fit for what you'd assume would be the patrons of Hell- Christian Hell.

No garments of pure white, or resplendant robes of celestial purity,
just jeans, a t-shirt and a big, warm smile.

She isn't all that pure either, she wants sex, she drinks,
but she's all the fabled grace and beauty and more-
even if she knows how to have fun.


We're nothing else but side by side, hand in hand, staring up at the ceiling.

"I can't believe we can just lay here, like this."

She says, rubbing a bare foot up the back of her jeans,
idly glancing over to me and squeezing my hand.
I pretend I'm sleeping, by quickly shutting my eyes and letting my head fall to one side, this serves only to rattle her.

Her,
her wings and all,
are then sat on my chest.

Then she unceremoniously pokes my nose.

"You're not sleeping, I know you're not."

I ignore her, a telltale grin creeping across my face.

She kicks back her legs and lays on me,
pressing her nose on to mine,
pressing a kiss to my lips before she snakes her hands down my sides,

she's tickling me!

I attempt to leap up and squirm away, we bump heads like a couple of cartoon characters, then fall off each other and start to laugh & rub our foreheads.

She looks over to me with a sudden smile;

"Where'd you put my socks?"

She says.