Photo courtesy of Alexander Andrews/Unsplash
I look up.
It’s dark,
And the midnight sky stares back at me
The moon’s gaze resolute.
She watches me,
The moon,
Delivering her messages in phases,
Showing me shallow shadows
In place of speech
Tonight,
She is full.
She knows I know this
And she challenges me,
Bright and greedy,
Presenting her completeness
As if it were a prize she had won,
Like she were not
Just as empty as I
Only a week ago.
This angers me,
Her wholeness,
The rage bubbling from my body like boiling water,
The feeling forcefully expelled from my eyes
and landing on my cheeks.
Perhaps my tears will dim her glow.
When she returns
To her faint crescent smile,
I will be under her,
Waiting,
Anticipating her empty newness
Once again.
