Shoulder

It’s just my shoulder

There’s nothing inherently beautiful or strong, tempting or freeing

Cool or calm about it, is there?

It’s just an offer

There’re billions of others to stand square with, befriend or lean on

Swoon over or serve with, aren’t there?

Set Apart

What if an angel is all that you were made to be

A guardian with no human arms in the ever of time to guard you

A servant among an army of servants, hosting the faint and heartsick

A consecrated one, bringing stranded souls back together

What if God’s breath is the all you were made to be