by David Hunter Sutherland
Angel in resin a flutter frozen in the hard crustacean of Time. Vacillations which spread whispers to thunders as the lips part, accolades mercurial jitter form in procession to a closing fifth. Soon the tamarind arms unfold, Orange skin drenched to temples' weaving strands, dark strays and catacomb footmaps to stars And the eyes, bitter-sweet toffee strong as an aftertaste lingers of disguised rouge, air and water, tart blood.