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on last night's moon...





I.

the clouds were thick -
to the verge of suffocation
and the last breaths of the sunset
outlined the world in pink

the pavement fell for us
in every direction,
its blankness bruised, surrendered
...blind to the weight of our stories

that's what these nights are like -
handfuls of her hair
in love with her love
(drowning in mine)
i burn myself
in the fire of her voice...


II.


my eyes have found her shape,
liquified against the twilight
and in finding her
have at last gone silent,
lulled to rest by a promise
of the infinity which only she
can make me believe in

these judas hands of mine -
soft on the curve of her hip,
fall palely clenched between the stars
understanding in full
the day they'll have to force themselves open
wide enough to let her go

in every thought
a new word for our goodbye
shoving hope into every corner;
space too precious to hold anything else

because for the first
(or maybe second)
 :                 time
i'm alive with who i am,
alive with what she's made me

engulfed with the perennial struggle
against the intrusion of time,
our moon stretches on...

-08-16-00-



...this is for you...for us...'the perennial struggle'...
because i can still feel the way you move...
we'll happen again and again...
...at least i know you're out there...


"...i think i made you up inside my head..."


..back this way...