Bereft
I like his armpit hair. It shows, a dark
Assertion, that the angel is a full,
Male entity. This exclamation mark
Beneath his shoulder gives the eye a pull
Towards blackness and deep masculinity.
Contrasting with it are the pinions white
Against his back. These, in affinity
With patches on his thighs and calves, ignite
The meaning of that brow eclipsed. The things
That really matter, though, are muscles, stare,
And bulging forearm vein—still more bowed wings,
And then that epic poem of his hair
Above his scalp. He is not a banished
One —or, if he is, God’s hopes have vanished.