When stricken by The deepest of wonder, Sky angels Or the gnaw of teeth On too white bone, I swing between The celestial and the canine, Where one life lives To simply feed another. I tear at myself And think in shards, No faith in faith, Believing only things get hungry, Things also get ravished and fed. But when the pigment bursts blue, When a sky stretched Wide and taut Seduces all the worship I may posses,