|
squint
|
the feathered fronds of a palmtree
wave goodbye
to the glow that keeps us all alive
as mournful night
sweeps the sky of warmth.
the moon cries out in stars
and wears a veil of clouds
to hide his shameful tears.
He longs to share this vast canvas
with his fiery counterpart,
but everytime he shows up
she leaps into the ocean
and cools her flames,
dying one more night.
The moon then weeps
for her suicide,
spreading a sheet of dew
over the life on earth below
that act as a tissue
to muffle his sobs.
In the morning (mourning)
the sun peers out wearily
with her rays of hair
clinging to the wispy clouds.
she peeks out
as the moon glides softly away
and she lives a secret life
shining down to dry the moon's
dewy tears
until her next swim
in the recesses of another sort of dark.
for its not how she wants it to be
but it has to be done,
and twilight is their moment
of sighs and love unwon.
|
020525
|
