We keep our eyes closed deeply Traipsing into the severed night. Pandora's box of thoughts Invades our mind's delight. Yet even when earthly eyelashes
Capture tears From the insomnia of the moon We oft forget to ask about her. It is the sun's turn to loom.
One night I'll prop my elbows by the window And wonder with my eyes: What's lurking in your shadows, moon, Leading to your silent cries? Answer she may, or she may not That is not why I ask. I hope to bring her fullness back So she may shine at last.