every moonbeam is a laceration
of shadow. a slit in the skin of a
black heart, convulsing in your
mirage. an imaginary sonnet
killing bees and Time.
every moonbeam is a patron
of the Arts. a hard raven and a fist
of belligerent worms.

a coil of angry
jubilation

and a selfless disregard
for the Sun

where you left
it

lowly.