The constant pitter-patter of raindrops on the concrete,

Crashing quiet and ugly elegance,

Tampering with a moment of heaven’s decadence here in the dragon’s belly,

Two suitcases pound the streets pavement with inked trees and empty agreements,

As the door reverberates their calls into my solemn house,

An angel stirs in its holy bed, and trades in its bible for a wallet,

The pennies sink deep into her heart as she answers the dogged ghosts,

“Your payment is 2 days late ma’am,” the ghosts whisper into her ear,

Demonic sins seeping their way into her head,

As an elephant stampedes through her soul,

She invites the devil for a seat at her table and they discuss… business,

She signs away her soul in favor of, momentary relief and suspension,

And just for a moment she hangs in mid-air like a spider whose proved to cunning for its pursuer,

“Mom, what did the men want”?

Until gravity grabs hold of her beautiful brunette locks and drags her into the dirt,

Helpless to fight, she cowers at the foot of her own demise,

She fights gravity as she pushes the words out her throat, “Honey… I’ve made some decisions,”

“Just know that when I’m six feet under… I’ll be watching over you,”

“Your own personal wingless angel,”

And as promised she was dragged through the mud into her final resting place,

Where the windows are boarded up, and her nightgown is painted a crimson red,

Salt rains down from my weepy eyes … constant pitter-patter on elegant marble floors and granite table tops,

As my tears acquiesce to the absolution that is gravity,

Yet here I am… weightless.