Poem: mechanical wings

The girl in the rain has mechanical wings,

broken gears screaming when she tries to fly.

Raindrops ricochet off of iron,

sending blood-red rivers of rust

cascading between chalk-white shoulder blades.

 

And she’s crumbling at the edges,

more machine than man,

all muddy knees and mortality,

crashing to the ground

a moment shy of divinity.