Monday, November 21, 2016

Magdalena Ball #7: The Late Moon

The Late Moon

Saw you there, that night
when no one was noticing
not the satellite night
the perigree trick

frogs, toads, newts
spawned while you waxed
your light dim
against a silhouette of trees

your eyes like broken torches
my fingers itching
dermatitis torn
blood running down
our lips

don’t tell me it’s too late

that you’re too jaded now
your surface dark
with shadows
crater scars
pockmarks against the future

don’t pretend you’re the only
moon in the sky
lost in orbit
your features static with time
and duty

then come back

just when I’ve almost become
human again
shapeshifted into

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