The man in the moon swallowed me whole,
Just as I began to admire his soft glow;
There he was, knowingly smiling over
The scary affairs of my teenage cares.
Apparently, I should mention
My attention was too much,
The perfect remedy for pro-love prevention.
Just in case it was neglected,
I must warn you,
Affection to your reflection sways you
To believe your giggle is perfection.
But when you are presented with rejection,
You’ll step back with a confused expression,
Wondering what happened to his original affection.

Now, I proceed.
I concede
Wooing the moon is harder than
Shaving a true hippie on ecstasy or ***
In the middle of the sea.
Why do I love someone who constantly
Turns around and hides himself
Whenever seconds pass
Only to tease me with peeks of his soul?
Oho what a divine mystery!
He’s a maze with infinite doors,
More complex than hallways,
More intriguing than apple cores, skin pores, folklores, or antique stores.

But
He wears a different face every day,
Masks of white, amethyst, and grey.
And
He seduces a variety of personalities,
Of intellectual minds, of our kind.
With his charm that, more than good, does harm
To us; who have put forth increasing
Efforts to make his eyes glitter,
We who pride ourselves on mental capacity, titter
With giggles,
Because we cannot think of a better reaction,
We are so consumed with him.

Freedom from the man in the moon’s
Enticing effect came only when I saw:
His redundant, repetitive cycles of beliefs and views,
Only sometimes were they new;
His aloof disconnection from others,
Even when I carefully showed the best parts of my soul;
And
The Fact
That so many others found him
Captivation, enchanting, and beautiful
Without the knowledge or understanding
Of his desires, values, or issues,
Of his dreams, sorrows, or needs.
Ignorant, blind, obsessive aspects of infatuation
Sicken me.

Now, for the better, I relay with
Content at this little success that it is
Much easier to tease, to debate,
To befriend the man in the moon
Now that I can resist his effervescent
Glow.

Still, I acknowledge, anticipate, and dread
The algae, the residue of my ephemeral love,
The waves and cycles of my affection;
Still, I crave a lucid connection to his mind, to his soul,
For I know enough
To embrace his being as consistently
As the sea kisses the sky.

But hardly does he ever show all of himself to one,
But always does he offer smiles and woos to all;
So, patience is my haven.
Empathy is my understanding;
Distraction, my refuge, my remedy.

Eventually, the man in the moon
Might attempt to love me
Fully.
Who knows with such an
Inconsistently predictable being?