Angels of the Dark
She waited in the dark for a perfect happiness as two angels of the night descend upon her slowly.
Her beating heart pounded against her chest as the angels, with heads folded downward, called it to come home.
The photographs around her spread their wings and flew away in the wind of the angels' much larger wings.
She looked once more toward the light through a small peep in the blackened windows.
She saw nothing but emptiness in a world of white.
But the dark was waiting filled with pictures of things she could not yet see.
So she threw her head down into the cold wet bin full of chemicals and developing photos that lay before her.
She drank and she drank until she could drink no more.
The angels pulled her by the hair, lifting her head out of the chemicals to face the ceiling.
One angel thrust both arms down her burnt and swollen throat and pulled out her still beating heart.
The other pulled her face to touch her forehead to the angel’s and pulled slowly away taking with her two trails of light one from her mind and from her mouth.
She watched the angels carry her heart, memories, and soul with care as they let her body fall to the ground.
She could feel these items flying away with the angels as she rested waiting for darkness to take over her sight.
The angels drifted through the blackened window into the light of day and she felt her heart warm.
Her heart beat faster with the light until stopping at a perfect rhythm to let her end.
Her soul, free from its cage, expanded in its joy and took over the forest.
It bounced from tree to tree lighting them with its lasting life.
And as the angels released her memories, she rested in the nirvana she found not in the light of day but in the cold darkness of the blackened out room.
- *inspired by two statues, the story of the first statue, and their placement in the Smithsonian American Art Museum*
- First statue: Adams Memorial by Augustus Saint-Gaudens, 1886–91(left).
- Second statue: Descending Night by Adolph Weinman, about 1915(right)