Tonight I looked up
and searched for you in the sky
hoping to find you looking down on me
while you slept with sadness dancing behind your eyes.
Tonight I found you way up high
reflecting the sun's light into darkness
I found comfort watching you shine.
Tonight I saw each crater etched into your skin
you didn't try to hide them
you let all of my love in.
Tonight I faced my fears
and I let each one of them go
as your glowing surface uncovered my path
and I found my way home.

No matter how much the
Sun loves the Moon,
No matter how honestly,
   gently and genuine,
Half of the Moon shall always be
Hidden from the face of the Sun.

You are the moon,
and I am the waves
that will never settle
because of you.

My dear moon,
My old friend,
Who listens to my thoughts
All night,
Who knows my darkest secrets
And my deepest desires.
Step sister of the Sun,
You give me light when
I need it the most.
One day,
I will join you.

I am not alone because I
Can't make friends

I am alone because alone is safe

No one can tear the
Tender flesh of my heart
If no one is near enough
To find it

a thing most new complete fragile intense,
which wholly trembling memory undertakes
—your kiss,the little pushings of flesh,makes
my body sorry when the minute moon
is a remarkable splinter in the quick
of twilight
            ….or if sunsets utters one
unhurried muscled huge chromatic
fist skilfully modeling silence
—to feel how through the stopped entire day
horribly and seriously thrills
the moment of enthusiastic space
is a little wonderful, and say
Perhaps her body touched me;and to face
suddenly the lighted living hills

there is a
moon sole
in the blue
night

      amorous of waters
tremulous,
blinded with silence the
undulous heaven yearns where

in tense starlessness
anoint with ardor
the yellow lover

stands in the dumb dark
svelte
and
urgent

        (again
love i slowly
gather
of thy languorous mouth the

thrilling
flower)

you asked me to come:it was raining a little,
and the spring;a clumsy brightness of air
wonderfully stumbled above the square,
little amorous-tadpole people wiggled

battered by stuttering pearl,
                                leaves jiggled
to the jigging fragrance of newness
—and then.  My crazy fingers liked your dress
….your kiss,your kiss was a distinct brittle

flower,and the flesh crisp set
my love-tooth on edge.  So until light
each having each we promised to forget—

wherefore is there nothing left to guess:
the cheap intelligent thighs,the electric trite
thighs;the hair stupidly priceless.