by Katrina J. Paddock
I have wrestled with the angels
and I will die dreaming.
One was enough; my angel
is mercenary, and while his eyes rapture
my eyes weep.
I peer into the darkness in fear there’s something there,
but it’s only us.
Like looking at something terrible.
Like looking at the face of god.
Let me prove how my love will haunt you:
because I don’t fold my hands to pray,
I hold onto your thighs.
Katrina J. Paddock is a Virginian living and writing in New York City, where she is studying English as an undergraduate. Her poetry has appeared in Jelly Squid Magazine, Dark Poets Club Magazine, and Paloma Magazine.
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