No Angels

It’s cold
My veins are hiding far under my skin
Goosepimples rise to the top
Simmering in the wind.

The moon is not held back
She shines in her glory
But silver light brought no warmth
Just shadows and forms of wraiths.

No angels
The flutter is of owls and bats
The flatter of dark minds and hearts
The night is no country for saints.

photo: pixshark.com

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