Saviour

Hang your wings up
for me tonight
and tremble, frail
and pale as winter's skin
within my arms.
Be my stranger,
an undone deed
I can carry like a candle
or a verse
whose words are simple
and let me feel it flame
like a soft bandage on my wounds.

Be my damage,
an unhealed skirmish
so sore that sorrow wanders
like a buried child
and banish me to yesterday
and fill my cup
with all I've ruined.
Hang your wings up
for me tonight
and tumble, silent
and fragile as summer sin
within my arms
and be my savior -
one long last shudder
behind my eyes

where you never thought
to look.