***ess Moon

The moon watches in shock
and turns its face,
Craters oblivious, pale murderers,
watching my sickle
plague the leaping heart's blood.
Flash, red, then gone.

The grass is yet young,
But the flowers must die.
Pale and withered, they fling
their own jeweled bodies
under the cobblestones
that split to let
the damp waxing moonlight through
at the apex of the night.

My tears
surprise me,
they jump and glitter
though I see no light
and the dark, it presses upon me
like fate, inexcapable,
so pulling...

I've been here before,
the inbred trees are nail-file thin.
Familiar,
tinged with soundless--
something,
in my mind.

I've been here!

The stars are but orbs,
As her eyes are not young.
They glow--
white lightning lithium tangent,
violet storm's entrails.
when the moon is gone
and scattered moon rays
paint my path
a deadly white--

Moths, leeched jealously
by the sun,
seem my hands.
Everything a scale of breath,
though
it is beyond my reckoning...

everything so simple,
small pin-flowers
unfold
all because I forget to breathe.

Is it yet day?
Or is it night,
It is dark,
someone painted
the moon away
and stabbed the remnants
into my eyes.
Pain, the stars,
random moonfire,
Untranslatable,
And I hang on the edge of darkness,
A dull blade
that will swing to kill,
whether a yes or a no.