I kicked and thrashed about
as the golden halos fell
not settling for a perfect, easy peace
I could feel them approaching
the calm, steady breathing of this crowd
young and scattered
I was stroking the injury
I was ousted from my bed
The moon so beautifully
wanders along
amid its own awful brightness
matching silence upon silence
and merits some reflection
but about that part
where the tame are blushing
not even the gods will fight