In A Room Full of Glass, the Moon is Queen

cold moon… trouble me not with your naked eye dark tears of light you liquefy and bathe in blood slow western crawl capture breath upon god’s wall a winter’s river sweet black as stone in me your darkness flows alone dispossession life is war an unsound calm defines your core so out of place we wander wane the scent of sun on skin sustain my memory through space of kin between the shadows of our sin you hold my hand in lifeless rift and you, oh you and me adrift …cold moon in the candle of the sea holds the glut of rain against her beating breast - for me cascading droplets into the universe full of glass declares: “I am the sun, alas …alas”