PART ONE
there is something wrong with the moon,
i tell the devil.
it is a sunday afternoon.
they are not supposed to be out on this day,
but they came due to my request.
i swear on it.
they pull a grimace on their face,
crossing their arms and leaning back.
i don't know what this means.
i don't know what to say now.
they probably don't believe me
and my tales of the moon.
i found an audio file on my computer
of a radio station a while back.
the moon is turning this city into a travesty.
don't they see it?
the host said something
about the moon.
they give me their attention,
only for a minute,
before looking back
at their talons.
i wonder what that meant.
the glow of the moon is terrifying, i say.
they sneer.
PART TWO
i flick my lighter on
and watch the flame
dance in the night.
the stars are hidden tonight
and the power went out again in the building.
this is all that i have.
the devil visits me again,
gas mask still glued on,
soulless window eyes
staring straight at me.
what's wrong? i ask.
the devil is perched on my desk.
it's about to fall apart.
they motion for me
to come closer,
a lazy swing of the wrist.
i follow.
they bring their lips
to my ear
and they tell me,
so softly,
darling, it isn't the moon.
it's the sky.
