The moon tells me stories about you, darling
– sends me lines in the form of constellations and planets,
while I see visions of you in my sleep,
and can feel the warmth of your capillaries
around my bones
making alive again my pulse
and wakening my corneas,
and all I want when my pupils begin to see
those rods and cones
are yours
looking right back at me
taking me in small doses;
while I’ll take you all at once.