He came back,
This time for me.
On the 110th floor I was so close to God
I could almost grab his beard.
Never before has heaven been this close to hell.
I can feel its fire on the floors below
Raising ash and paper and smoke
Thick as Satan’s laughter.
At the window, shattered,
I look for salvation and he tempts me,
Dares me to jump,
Whispering a psalm in my ear
He spits as he speaks:
“He will bid his angels watch over you.
With their hands they will support you.”
I mumble “Amen,”
Close my eyes and sense the rush of air.
I cannot breathe until I finally feel
Those hands of angels
Hard as cement against my face.
Can you please post those pictures.