moon drunk lover

she's with you at the end of the world, the last light to go out -- or the light at the end of the tunnel.

you wonder if this will be the last time.

one.

this is what you remember:

light, reaching out to you.

light, grasping your hands with care,

guiding you out into the world.

that is what light is for, after all.

                              to guide.                        to keep people from losing their way.

and the moon, the grace of the night sky,

is all you see as you take your first steps.

two.

perhaps this is your fault.

most things are.

this gentle woman tilts your head up to meet her eyes --

                    glowing and white and ethereal and there was no way she could have ever been human --

and kisses you.

the moon above you brightens.

how many times have you sang to it?

enough to call her to you.

three.

this won't ever last, you know this,

and still, you linger, press your lips to her knuckles,

promise her forever;

the moon is just a witness in this tragedy, just as it is the cause.

when the end comes, she lays you down gently.

your dying breath passes through your lips,

the first makings of your ghost.

in the end, loving her didn't come to anything.

in the end, the moon is just another light in the sky.

four.

it doesn't end there, of course.

so long as the moon hangs heavy in the sky,

someone will always love her.

someone                               is always you.

sing until the dawn steals her away;

your throat is too raw to even call out her name.

do this in every life, every night

until she buries you under her light.

five.

the moon is just a rock in the sky, reflecting the light of a violent star.

astronomers marvel at her, dissect her battered body,

leave footprints on her breast instead of kisses.

if only you could believe that.

a rock in the sky, a rock on her finger;

it hurts no matter how many times you go through this.

you wish you could curse yourself

for falling in love with the moon in your first life --

the heart stays the same no matter the body is resides in.

six.

no matter how many languages you sing of her in,

the truth of her nature will never change:

the moon is all the love you can not have.

the world ends. the moon remains in the sky, above a broken land.

she reaches out her hand -- you take it yet again. the two of you will never learn from your mistakes, it seems.