Saint Michael the Sleepless, the patron of
bittersweet, holds Annie up against the
dark & sings her songs that he learned marching.
She wonders at his scratching chin. Above
the singing, his eyes will close & she'll see
a salty tear begin & feel the arching
of his back. Annie will begin to drift.
The bottle will soon empty & he'll lift
her into bed. The closet's light will gleam.
She'll hear him say the name into the night,
& she will feel Saint Michael moving tight
against the closing fabric of her dream.