the moon and its torture

another moon poem 🌕

words simply spill out when i talk about the moon
its everlasting glory against the darkness
the light of remembrance, blinding
intoxicating
over the course of night i am still bathing
inhaling as though opium rained falsely from the sky

i said my words to the moon
reciting all the poems and letters I made
on some I kept the tears in my eyes
on some my voice cracked of laughter
thinking is there a way to take your hand
feel you at my side, corporeal and infinite

does the moon feed from its admirers
perhaps our light is its vitality
and foolishly I gave away too much of my own
a life source of heavy words and longing
when does the writing stop
the entanglement in every glimpse
will it remember me when I become one with the Earth
will it send back letters in my memory.

the torture begins when i surrender
that my neck aches in our trance
my body on the ground, yawning
despite the chaos, the waves in the ocean
and in my heart
it glows without care, never reciprocating

it's time to cut the moon from its mysterious feat
using a small needle to untie the thread
there is pain, sure.
but I can reshape the knot finely like muscle
Relax, walk ahead and never look back
or up, even if it tails me
Truth is, a mortal like me will never be good enough for the moon,
and that's alright. I promise,
And whenever me meet in my destination
I'll gladly say hi, and nothing more.

Author's Note

Please be kind, it's very raw.

Reviews

[Coyote Poetry]

I talk to the moon also Markus. I liked the story and your thought in the poetry. Thank you for sharing the amazing poetry.
Coyote

[jacob erin-cilberto]

you might think raw...but I think quite expressive.
and if the moon does feed on its admirers for its light...no wonder it is what it is...and the brightness
is combination of all the lovers who ever fed into it.
j.