to be the unlucky mediator between celestial bodies
I stare at the moon so long She releases Herself
to me. I pluck Her from the sky,
a ripe berry from a bush. The distance between us
a thousandth of what it is between She and I, yet
tonight She hangs heavy in my pocket.
The rhythm of my step soothes Her
and where are you?
I sit quietly on the pavement, attracting stares.
I will do anything to seduce Her,
turn Her gaze and make Her love me. Meanwhile
you run wild under Her serenity,
The thought of it empties me—
the thought of someone tarnishing Her divinity with that sort of arrogance.
She will be mine; I, Hers; I will love Her as long as
She will allow.
Sometime tonight Her remains
will become stuck in your teeth, souring
with the rot of your drunken breath. Your hollow
corrupts Her holy, O