I think I might be the angel of death,
it’s my unthinking touch that drains, leaves nothing left.
I think I might be the one that they said
would come, closing the doors on the light at the end.
I think I might be the angel of light
that shines, showing too much, with the heat that ignites -
in my right hand the flame, in my left is the blight,
but I’ve learned to deny the truth, quiet and polite.
I think I might be the angel of truth -
you said I could be anything, here’s what I choose:
perpetual increase, never reduced
and I’ll stand for my right as the angel of truth.
I think I might be the angel of death
but nobody’s moved to protect themselves yet.
I think I might be the one that they said
bent down, touching her lips to each fading forehead.
I think I might be the angel who calls
with a million clear voices of sinew and gold
and a host of nine heavenly souls in the walls:
a force never earned that I’ve learned how to hold.
Berlin producer Veronica Maximova faces up to her demons on this avant-pop EP, the sequel to her debut “Computerlove.” Bandcamp New & Notable Apr 26, 2022