The thick, low voice of my moon calls out to me,
He won’t be ignored, refused or forgotten.
He follows me through my dreams,
Beckoning me, infecting me, luring me deep into my fantasies.
I feel his embrace and all the promise it holds,
Despite the wicked wishes he causes.
His absence is thwarted by his overwhelming abundance,
As he entrances me with his sadistic desires.
The silence of night is when his song fills my ears,
And makes my soul see how much I’ve missed him.
But my heart is in conflict, he is but a dream,
And my mind threatens to evict him.
Oh moon, sweet moon, my moon,
Your love grips me so tightly.
Please, moon… Dark, wicked moon,
Consume me so that I might be released in the sunrise.
I cannot create, invoke or steal you,
But you can disappear at any moment.
And then, my moon, I will be forced.
To truly explore all of life’s possibilities.