Attracted to the moon
with as much attachment
as my mind holds on you.

Distracted by the glow
singularizing its presence,
like when you enter the room
and the music forgets to breathe.

Knowledge of contentment
drifting in this Poetic awareness,
the moon’s kiss like a favored abyss.

High on the chemicals between us,
losing myself deep within
rare subterranean spirals,
where everything is made,
save for the bed.