Rippled Midnight Moon
Saturday, August 3rd, 1996Longing for innocence
long, lost.
All there was to understand at the
time was all there was to understand.
Actions and reactions are
the ebb and flow
And the only moonlit spawn is emotion.
Swelling up across brittle broken
shell beds
and retreating
across the floors of silent seas.
Rifts and fire vomited and frozen.
The fire never aware
the daylight
Moonlight
plays across a sallowed
rippling skin at dusk
and a shuttered boat
trolls across a channel of
churning sensation.
Beckoning piers like
bar counters, to relax
and lose your better
half, the half to keep
you afloat.