the precision of a shooting star
cuts capricorn from horn and hoof
unscabbard moon left half ajar
the surgeons light on retrograde roof

unspooling stitchings from toe to tooth
they seemed less loose from where we are
unzipping zodiacs with exsecting truth
black blood pooling in gods back yard

she loved like the first rock in the rings of saturn
solitary circling space flotsam
still invisible. not yet beautiful

she loved like the first eye formed
in the primordial ocean.
what was ever less seen

she loved like the first word.
what so fully shaped, so fully intentional
was less understood

she loved like the first note,
some harmonic oscillation played by a nascent zephyr
on a Pangean chasm; heard only by what some call god
and others called nothing - well before there words or eyes
or rings of saturn

and she loved like the last love
the whimpering call of the last dodo on its last day
a requiem for a dream always realised too late

Sea pecks sand with tidal kisses
salt spray perfume reminisces
granular tingling in curves on shore
toe curled footprints shifting floor

flooding valves and deepened flush
foaming roar and heaving rush
'til surf sweeps scene with praticed care
a promise there was nothing ever there

the moon pulls the tide over the sand like a blanket over a babe that turns in their sleep

It’s midnight somewhere and the waves repeat simple instructions
ssshhhh

we met up for a coffee
and we both got extra hot
but it was her eyes of gold
that would shimmer and scald
at that little midtown shop

three years and a day went past
where we almost tied the knot
and I stayed enthralled
'til I got a call
saying lets meet at our usual spot

and she didn't sip the coffee
as it went from hot to cold
like here eyes that glazed
on an autumn day
while they lost their flecks of gold

her smile a gentle splashing
just like that streetlamp on her door
and her voice a comforting lapping
like a wave upon the shore

but like the moon that can't keep waxing
for a night that's craving more
she left; her green eyes flashing
like a distant meteor

our crescent moon floats in idle reverie
amidst its opal lagoon
in that lacuna before the day's first morning blush
while the fish hold their breath

and as she swims,
she illuminates the heiroglyphs scrawled on the sky
in the scumbled vapourtrails of hurried planes
soon to be dispersed
by the heavy breaths of snoring gods

but i just don't ******* care
moon, please let me sleep