And now the moon has fallen softly
from the lips of the velveteen void, to arrest
in the dimple of darkness, disarmed and radiant
as plasma and white cheese
on a black eye.

just above a frozen toadstool, hovering in the crisp of winter night
bejeweled in all the splendor of snowflake and starlight -
a wee lass with glass wings and a tiara of mischievous stalagmites
aglow in the Glamour of Her introspection's vanity
She shimmers 'neath the Moon
and disregards
your gazing.

in majesty.