While the moon bears our blood, we
think about someone we just met but
only until the moment the trade winds
blow the dust aside

An empty saxophone fills with air, playing
sadly until the moon stops to listen

He had to leave early to care for his life
He told her he needed time to fall in love
He thought about the way she smiled
He wanted to believe in her instincts
Was it her imagination that became impatient
Or the way he wiped her brow with her scarf?

It doesn’t take long to know, ships that
pass always remember; looking through
a silk scarf feels the same way, the airy
fabric enjoys trading the dust thread for
grain

Lonely circling bleeding making people
fear for their faith; allure matchmaker,
lovers together, feeling the tides within
crashing upon their desires

It was the time to be bold
Her eyes said so

But scarfs can fool a man and dust can
fool a sparrow; how would he know the
difference when it was his imagination
that must decide between moons passing
through shadows and misty eyed longing
that for a moment begged him to stop
sailing by