Pagan Angel and a Borrowed Car

Love was a promise made of smoke In a frozen copse of trees A bone cold and older than our bodies Slowly floating in the sea Every morning there were planes The shiny blades of pagan angels in our father's skies Every evening I would watch her hold the pillow Tight against her hollows, her unholy child I was still a beggar shaking out my stolen coat Among the angry cemetery leaves When they caught the king beneath the borrowed car Righteous, drunk, and fumbling for the royal keys Love was a father's flag and sung like a shank In a cake on our leather boots A beautiful feather floating down To where the birds had shit on empty chapel pews Every morning we found one more machine To mock our ever waning patience at the well Every evening she'd descend the mountain, stealing socks And singing something good where all the horses fell Like a snake within the wilted garden wall I'd hint to her every possibility While with his gun, the pagan angel rose to say "My love is one made to break every bended knee"