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Scribble: Lunar

December 11, 2011

I stood on a roof
nose pressed through clouds
to see the lunar eclipse.

“I don’t get it,” I said.
“Isn’t there more?”
The moon a limp bride
in a dishwater veil.

I had wanted a monster.

Later, on the street,
the moon, she caught me.
She pressed me tight
to the neighbor’s wall
and whispered:

“Hide the drunken light of your eyes behind me.
Glow halo-like behind the softer shadow.”

I lifted my veil.

Later, I stood on tiles
nose pressed to the bathroom mirror
to see my lunar eclipse.

I had wanted a monster.

I saw swirls of steam
softening glass
and a smoky lip print
behind which I hid
and glowed,
halo-like.

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3 comments

  1. Very nice. Maybe drinking does enhance writing! I like this a lot. There’s something mysterious, magical and poetic about lunar eclipses-es and you’ve captured it all here. I can feel you.

    Keep writing!


  2. Very mysterious! You played tricks on my mind with those words.


  3. As you know I am simply not academic enough to understand poetry consequently it is difficult for me to comment. Saying “nice poem Shelley” somehow doesn’t seem to cut it. None the less we are extremely proud of your writing abilities so “NICE POEM SHELLEY”.



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