Last night I caught the full moon in my eyes
where it  spun  into a universe of shooting stars.
falling into restless dreams, too full of sleep,
that moon, that blue-white, too full moon,
that night-other light, spinning in to a whisper
across  a spider's web between the glass and screen.
Trailing night behind her in globules of silver light,
she twirled on each single strand and slid over sill
down wall across crumpled  linen sheets
and slipped into my sleeping hair
dancing  tangles of cool night breezes;
whirling away at dawn across my sleep-flushed cheek