i used to drink tea with angels 
but then the sky turned to red jello
& then we were all busy becoming men.
our tea cups were the size of soup bowls
but got smaller each time we conviened. we're always
running out. the angels fell from the sky
like dead birds & i collected their feathers
into glass coffins. what is heavier?
a pound of bones or a pound of feathers?
obviously the pound of feathers. the tea set fits 
in the palm of my hand now. i invite centipedes 
& cicadas & don't tell them about the angels.

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