Angel Wing

Trespasser

In those days, angels descended from the heavens to teach the various crafts known in paradise, and I came sideways from the know-not-where to teach the art of desire.

In those days, angels descended from the heavens to teach the various crafts known in paradise, and I came sideways from the know-not-where to teach the art of desire. I slipped through the cracks below doors and through barely-opened windows. I found you alone in your beds and set you to seething.

In the time of fading stars, when those who have spent the night writhing in intimate and personal hells turn their wide vacant eyes to the sky and pray for relief, then you will know that I have passed over.

Close your eyes and wait for my touch.

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Amelie Daigle

Amelie Daigle

I’m a doctoral candidate at Boston College, where I teach postcolonial literature and research representations of migration in postcolonial Anglophone novels. My dissertation examines novels that represent transnational families. I argue that contemporary postcolonial novels offer new models for conceiving of citizenship and community, troubling the idea of national borders.

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