the Moon is made more alive
by the waves
in ponds.

not unlike You.

whose beauty is held captive
momentarily
in every reflective surface,
whose fingerprints leave ichor
love letters
and a laugh like a forest fire.

i am bewitched. Lunacy.
yet it's a sad fate.

as it is impossible to attain
the Moon.

*Not unlike You.

i have tied
my heart to the tree
to play on its strings.
the notes
hollow out the space
like cavities.
i play on my heart
tied to the tree
i am always a part
of whatever you left me.

But why do we find our hearts
in the palms of others?
in the cracks of the paint.
in the makeup.
in the books.

it's always somewhere unexpected.
like venom you take with honey.

filled with sweetness,


with satisfaction. *Are you satisfied?