The moon is harvest,
round and golden.
Traveling the sky like a
It times you,
sweet silence,
by position of the stars
{those stars twinkling like your eyelights}
Waning moon, falling on the roses
sharp red beauty
like the dim light falls
on the-
"We all," your voice whispers
husks, bleeds
and the gold moon ticks its consent.

1 comment:

Melee said...

Oh! How breath-taking!
I love this line to pieces: "those stars twinkling like your eyelights"