We circle in our circles.
With wings cindered, shoulders
still stretch to unfurl. Our scars
are painted silver and marks
we made gold. For those
we cannot reach, we hand over
Author Commentary: There's a lovely piece of metalwork on campus of an angel and devil holding hands, but but the devil is facing downward. This poem came from thinking about the kind of love that would convince angels to go to war against God, and how they recover from that.
K. S. Keeney is a senior at Salisbury University, studying Creative Writing and Film. She’s also been the editor of Amaranth literary magazine and is current fiction editor of Scarab literary magazine. Her time is usually split between writing, watching movies, or writing about movies.