Fossil

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.