Another Existential Crisis…Must Be Tuesday

ANGELS, DIMES, AND FEATHERS

no angels appear when I call
no dimes, no feathers
no spirit visitors in the night
I listen for whispers
sniff the air for the faintest
hint of your perfume
waiting for a sign you
still exist and angels are real

I give away my books
then buy them back again
books about spirit and signs
life after life
memories of other selves
and the wisdom of mystics
all borrowed, not believed
I want my own stories

no angels appear when I call
no pennies, no butterflies
no message of hope in my dreams
I search for patterns
link the smallest details
of every coincidence
wanting to believe we
still exist and angels are real

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