I was outside
In the crowd of a thousand grass needles
Poking and prying at my knees
At my heart
Were my hands
Protecting my heart from the moon
The moon's face
Expresses uncertainty
For anything that may come next
She reinforces the idea
That we will never know
What may happen next
Oh, how sick my heart must be
To hide from this beautiful face
In the sky
Full of scars
And a crooked eyebrow
My fate lies there
Ready to burst from the resistance of the clouds
And release itself from the pull of the moon
Into my heart