the moon was full last night,
ripping the waters away from the earth,
the ocean tides swelling in the rhythm
of the blood in my veins,
the slow and steady thumping
i normally love
becoming a syncopated beat to music i could not hear, but feel.
i longed to move,
to dance,
to run,
to fly,
and felt that wildness about me -
the parts that yearn for so much
but i rarely listen to -
scream silently to the moon-god
that birthed them this night.
the moon did not answer,
but to keep the steady
thumping at bay,
and let the bacchanalia
continue on,
until at last, the flesh gave way to slumber.