Needles struck in my weakened moon
And out of their gaping pores
Bloom strands of light
All sleek and soft in their intricate might

The world, you tell me
Is a lion flayed alive
And all the stars and suns
And bits and pieces such
The animals it loved

And I on these—
No
Dare I say I too itch with lone
No ‘I’s here
We, on these still clouds
Smothering thick
Walk
Our hands ****** into fleshy planets,
Eyes, drowsy beneath their gentle dusks

And all the screams
That we may have lived
Are drowned before they reach us
In the viscous air
Just, just beneath our feet

The land that birthed us
Worships a flame
That will ****
All that it has ever ruled
And the lion is bared
Its gold discarded to mud
Its pleas withered

Upon a stake it rests
Sun-warmed flesh made love to
By honey and precious vines
Kissed by ants
Crows—
No vultures, not them
They eat the dead only

And life bleeds out of our moon
—our moon
As nights lick it off

This is how I remember you:
A whimper beneath
—just a small ****
That grew where it shouldn’t have
Dried off in a minute
And a whimper above
Just a note, young as a twinkling star
At the edge of an eye

And this is how I remember you:
A face beyond the clouds,
Oblivious in its agony
And a glimpse of silver above
Fading away quietly
A moment
Before it is gone

Drunken, we walk
Lips curved, content
Skins as calm lakes untouched

We have lingered here
For hours or more
Many sunsets we have swum through
No moons, no kings
Begging our hearts for immortality

Slowly, the glimpses go away

Clouds get fatter
And golds and silvers
Collect dust
Somewhere—

I do not know what becomes of us
Only that clouds
Crowd around
Swooning for the petal-soft
Breaths of our light chests

Loving us slow, slow,
Slow
And we forget
Everything but.

Needles struck in my undying moon…