Your face is the moon
Guiding
These feet
That always tread
Towards the uncharted
In search of home
Distant places
Euphoria
It gathers
Washes up at my feet
Takes root to eager bones

You encircle

My spirit drifts towards these things
Your face is the moon
Gleaming with zeal
The asylum of your arms
Mending the snare
Spliced by old knives
Long forgotten
At the bend of nevermore


You encircle my yearning

The asylum of madness
In the center of winter
Some kind of palpable presence
Forevermore drips down your chin
I am a ship passing in the night.