but could it be,
wondered small i
—standing lonely under
the glowing succulent moonlight—
that the ripe fruitful sun
and the shy white moon
to find each other?
trapped as they are
a galaxy’s old pragmatism
pulling strings til they waste away
but they run their courses, they
carry out their dance
no one’s ever bothered to ask them
if they regret anything.
every thought I think of you,
sprinkled with stardust and old remembered lust,
in waves, but as
a collective sunshine;
and as the gray sails calmly overhead
my cloudy days begin again
and the twinkling crystals fall fast away.
“and how dare you insinuate,
I’ve never done a thing but alleviate…!
and after all the kisses and caresses,
like damned bad drugs, and the stale smell of you like alcohol;
the minute minutes
skeletal silhouettes on a blank screen
of the 2pm sky…
I still love you,
and that’s all I can say.”
enchanting as the stars,
pirouetting in their sweet summer starlight.
a pure green celestial thunderstorm
on this June clear-as-day night.
memories taste like caramel,
they stick on my teeth and smooth themselves over,
candied brown turning almost nebulaeic,
mellifluous on my tongue;
they are drifting in and out,
as I am drifting
in and out
of ways to do this all over again.