Notice the Pope’swhite skin beneath the red velvet robe.Contemplate the thin papery silhouetteof Italian hands touching himself –sometimes lovingly smoothing fingertipsof the right handover his perfect belly. God has called him whilehe drifts toward sleep andthe kingdom of his dreams –a sometimes white world of goodnessmade salient from the footprints leftby tiny angels, the ones who have dancedacross the filigree of his indefectiblebatiste shirtsangels who have … Continue reading Brethren by Hunter Boone