Angels In Our Mouths

Sandra Beth Levy

On the tip of my tongue sit the ancient rabbis

Yeshiva style they debate how many angels

dance in my mouth

thousands, millions, more than the stars in heaven

The oldest star in space is named Methuselah

grandfather of Noah, oldest biblical patriarch

Scientists date Methuselah back fourteen billion years

Before our universe exploded into existence with a

Big Bang

My vibrant lips lick the aftertaste of love

Sweetened by my lover’s honey-bronzed skin

His breath a flood of promise

My loins blessed by a holy grandmother hugging her oceans

Innumerable angels dance in our watering mouths

more than the animals Noah protected on his arc

more than the stars created with a Big Bang

The rabbis sit on the tip of my tongue and argue

As they try to count the angels

who dance wild with abandon upon our curved cheeks

for longer than Methuselah’s light streaks across our universe