Would We Call It A Start?

It was just one look with an angel pulling at my hands.

You didn't turn from my eyes, floating in a cloud of lights.

I kept telling you to look away, my chest slamming close.

Maybe I should have shown you my spine,

The white's of my eyes in the sunlight,

And thrown my bones to the dogs one last time.

But for some reason, the birds kept singing.

I felt it in my bones to open my mouth,

To find the threads to my life,

And hand them to someone like you.

If even it is a wonderful dream.