I cup the moon in my hands
from a safe space
on untamed ground
in a forgotten place.

The moon—
its glow, it lingers,
wrapping soft eggshell hues
around my fingers.

I earned my bread
from the stubborn flesh of my body—
but it didn’t feed me,
didn’t fill me.

The moon had ripened full;
I cut from its cheese
and laid it in my bread.

From the next day,
I saw it sulk—
growing smaller,
then vanishing.

In the shadows of a dead city,
where feet tap cracked pavement
and broken fluorescents blink,
there hovers a sphere of soft glow.

You might call it the sky’s cheese,
but I call it a nightlight—
hovering low like a searchlight
for the ******.

Never spoken of
unless it’s full,
a beacon for a wolf’s howl,
an ear for your secrets
when no one else listens.

A cold winter moon

high above the rolling snow --


My heart starts pounding.

In a galaxy millions of light years away,

Your visage shines bright, a glistening moon

Its orbit is drawn, its kismet is made

Its blinding departure came far too soon  



Wandering through cosmos in search of your light,

I yearn to break from fate’s dictation

Yet as your figure comes into sight

It shows not truth but imagination



Your orbit drifts further as your visage fades

Your figure dissolves into starless dust

Your eclipse casts my heart under lonely shade

There is no love or hate, only rust



I have not known love but merely affection

I have not known you but just a reflection

O
that if I could,
I would:

Hide the moon
and the sun
in my fists.

No more lights
in nights.
No more rays
in days.

Why should the world
remain alight
when my soul
and heart
are drowned in dark?

So strangely
have you stuck to my life,
you, who have gone.

Why is everything
of my life
attached to you?

Like you are
the darkness
of my nights,

and stars,
and the moon...
they must be lightless
if I don’t
think of you.