Would you be angry if I howled?
You awaken sleeping fires inside me
more primal than modern words can express.
You look as if you are dressed in the moon
with Orion around your wrist and Leo on your neck.
Such pendants chase the pedantry of speech from my mind.
There are no steps in your stride.
You move about teasing laws of inertia,
kissing gravity on the cheek
as if to acknowledge his feeble attempt.
I have searched all of time and space for you
and you have found me speechless.

Would you be angry if I howled?
Threw my head back and let loose my lungs?
There is a wind in your eyes that stirs my soul.
Sentences that made sense not two minutes ago read:
is the moon you pretty as not as... what?
letters strewn across my tongue fall into my throat
you are a category 5 lunar storm
coating my eyes in moon dust and shine.
There is no man in me so eloquent
as to answer the ancient beauty I have seen in you.
All I have found is a cartoon wolf
with his heart popping out of his overalls
and his eyes on fire with the moon.