Ebb & flow, high and low
Tug and tug the moon above
Reaching for its own reflection
Narcissistic incantation
in my sky of love

Depths unfathomable of darkened light, the salt emaciates me when she is bright with crown hung low.

Pools of poems shimmer as she retreats, allowing me to ****** words, caress them before I nudge them from their nest, my chest and release the Word back to the sky.

Waves that slap, wake me from a slumber.  My turn to be the eyes and ears as the moon my love retreats petrifying souls to guard her celestial number.