Flutter (rushed poem).

I don't believe in heaven
I don't believe in angels
yet stood before me stands such a creature;
with her wings tucked under her hoodie.

I dare not admire anything but her,
as her eyes of sweet, invigorating coffee
dart from side to side
from one of my eyes to the other.

Although bewilderingly dark
a haze of light surrounds her
and her loud softness cushions
and calms my twitching brain.

A violent strength glues me
to every anatomical wonder of her.
Respire, rewire, retire
and a curtain opens, revealing her
in the spectral spotlight.