I once saw the moon at 2:43 AM, and
The moon saw me at 2:42 AM, and I cried.
Somewhere along the way, I thought of
Those reckless targets, the senseless aims
My eyes used to follow my mind. Feet in
Shallow waters, feeling the tempered ripples
Under the waves. Those demon labels I
Consume. Frantic echoes. Written into the
Saddle of a ride into territory I wish I never
Entered. I remember those timid dimples.
I used to trace them like my fingers against
The skin of an orange tadpole, cautiously
Feeling my own destructive power, wishing
Those girlish caddies never reared its limp
Against those garnish larks. Ripping apart
My skin was a hawkish bleak sight of the
Past, wishing those moments never came
Back, washed into the past. Gone. Done.