Cleft chin and sullen eyes
Scour the grey, lifeless sky
For signs of the retreating moon,
And the after-glow of her vanishing soul

Must I wait another day or night?
With expectations of another revival
The rise and fall of her ephemeral spirit
It slashes and flays before it slumbers; restless and tortured

I watch with enigmatic wonderment
How do I accept the wounds, bound with salt and sea-foam?
The passion of deep red fluid that runs through our veins
That spring like geysers from a gentle touch

We wake to the moon glow and dispelled dreams
Gaze upon the ceiling in the dark
And from it, all moving things appear and disappear
“Particles”, I exclaim!