thrice the moon has claimed the sky
away from the comets and stars
yet even her full naked light
could not brush away the shadows
gathering from not seeing you
nor hearing from you

even the photographs where you bared
more than just your smiling eyes for me
burns into my own like snowcrash static

until all that remains is this ache:
a ****** song born
with the rhythm of my heart;
the sound of your name laces
each of my breath, as if a prayer,
as i lay my soul into sleep.