June 15, 2002
He's an Angel. I think as I run my hand down his back, lightly touching the stubs where his wings used to be. He pulls back a little to look at me, his eyes reflecting more light than normal eyes should. He smiles his strange little smile as he stares at me, his head cocked as though he can almost hear what I am thinking. And I'm thinking not every fallen angel makes it to hell. I'm also thinking here is more intensity than I ever needed to know. At this thought, he throws his head back and laughs silently.