dusty white flutters from clouds saturated with precipitation
moon flowers have leaves of ice and hearts of rock
while the moon appears naught but as a dimly lit haze in the night.
my stomach sinks as words become twisted and feelings strained
contempt and sadness bleed from the faux brokenness of us
logic and reason have no part in this sad game;
they would know what to do
linoleum floors rub against my midnight suede boots
salted drops fall without hesitation onto the changing floor
and then onto moonflowers and pavement untouched by the darkness
red wool jacket mimics and mocks the fakeness of what is
gusts of wind stop moving predictably
the world stops spinning for just a moment, one breath
after that one moment, life resumes
people continue with their slumber.
I do too.