Form and animus

Form, you are not the god
of language and passion
but an angel only,
winged and alluring for sure,
perhaps the fallen one,
or an archangel,
but a angel around
the throne you are indeed.

The god is animus,
the force that drives
the creative whole,
and sits upon the golden throne
to breath into the flesh
and body of ideas
and give them life.

For Derrida