Gravity

I pondered well this query cast from the furnace of my heart: How do I catch an angel? I’ve wondered from the start, and in my troubled thinking, the riddle grew most clear: I’ll get to you by gravity; there’s no escaping, dear. You have wings; go use them. I can hardly be afraid. Lash me with your lack of passion. It is a painful raid, but only that—the battle, the campaign and the war, are mine—all mine!—admit it: you will come to my door. The forces that I play with, can make e’en angels fall. Will you fly or fight me when you know it’s but a stall? My eyes are locked upon you, my heart is iron-bound. Yet you wonder: am I bluffing? Is my love true and sound? For you can’t see the curious thing that lends strength to my hand, it is the draw of me to you, that taught me my command. April 24, 2016