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Luna, Darling

Pale, sallow and wasting each night,
Her lurid lips lusting for a lick so slight,
Of her own reflected glow streaming
Off the water, to fill her wide and teeming.

She shimmers out her last silken light
As the night thickens and screens our lady
The nightshade droops aubergine and shady
But behind the raven's wing she'll pull
To draw the ocean, vinous and seminal.

She draws near her sister, her double,
While the waters simmer, rise and bubble,
Imbibes her sibling in brine and moisture,
Swallowing both a pearl and oyster.

Enceinte, sending salty sea to sand,
She flows with milk and honey in every land,
Like love upon many waters.
In each well lies her sister/daughters.
a little moon poem
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September 9, 2009
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