It Had To Be His Halo
I left for hell in a handcart.
I waved goodbye, wished them well.
I vowed a postcard from the fiery pits,
signed by vagabond, me.
On my way to the ground, I stopped at a pub crawl.
Somehow this place led me to heaven.
I was one over the eight
when I stumbled outside.
Headed for nothing.
The scene kids were smoking,
holding beers like glass flutes
during a Sunday brunch recovery.
Dim bar, silver haze,
You’d spy, over there, me–
despair in a ponytail.
I swore it had to be an angel
with those three tiny freckles
and a gold chain around his neck–
it had to be his halo.
And little did I know that his soul
would save me from the devil
lurking inside me.
He says “hello”
and I get carried away
from this low-lit town and
these low-life conversations
about him and her and
all of their friends.
His voice was as refreshing
as petrichor after a
period of drought and trial.
Lips that taste like cinnamon chai,
looking into his deep brown eyes.
I tell him to sip slow on this night,
so he doesn’t burn himself.
It was when I came in contact
with this celestial being
that I realized, maybe
I did want to stay a bit longer.
I told Charon not to wait for me.