he said ‘you are the moon’
but now i’m guessing
he’s adapted to perpetual sunlight
unwanted
those eyelashes fall
like my cigarette ashes
so make a wish
and make it fast
before it’s blown away
by this hurricane
because
he’s made of brass
but i’m nothing more
than the crucible for the cast
the sand dollar swept up
by the tidal wave
or the paint poured down
the drain