Today I looked up at the moon
Wearing the same eyes I wear when I lie,
And the same eyes I wear when I love,
These same eyes I have cried away oceans with in the same violent hues
And these same eyes were made to look upon the moon
To wonder at its light an endless spill of milk
To wonder how it all ends up here, life on earth
The endless spiral of it all, apocalypse, and rebirth, and the stuff of dreams
All the paper cuts, and the broken limbs, and the sweat sticky sheets
the hands of the lovers with their letters, and with their swords
the continents and the shift of tectonic plates, the earth beneath our feet
It's all chemical, like nerve endings, and like split ends,
Like the whorls and arches of fingerprints, like the trail of a shadow
I look at the moon with the same eyes I wear when I sleep
And the same eyes I'll wear to my grave
And I ask how it all ends up when the earth swallows us up,
When we are all just reflections of memory like developing film or distant stars
YOU ARE READING
a pebble in a pretty girl's pocket
PoetryThinking well means looking beyond what is simply there, in a direction aimed at change.
