m.

Feb 24 1:25 AM

The moon was low hanging fruit tonight 

Hanging off the dark branch of the night sky

Glittering leaves of starlight surrounding

It hung low and pale yellow

A half crescent lemon moon 

It hung low as I wept, and reaching toward it

I slipped into the murky, sweet cold night 

And wept into the sky 

My tears found home in the twilight 

The salt scattered and crystallized across nights serene cover

Creating glittering constellations of my sorrow 

I drifted through the clouds,

Sucked on the sour yellow lemon moon

My lips puckered, and I spat out the seeds 

Planting gardens of discontent 

I wept again and again

For all that I had done wrong

For all that I had done right

Under this night sky 

Under this lemon moon 

I closed my eyes and let night enter and return me to bed 

I woke up to bright skies

The constellations were underlying

Scars hidden beneath sunny skies and skin 

The moon stood watching high above, white and opalescent

I got up and draped myself with silky sunshine 

Adorned my ears with drops of gold 

The sunrise returned my tears folded in a ray that beat down on my rosy cheeks and swollen eyes

The sunrise forgave  

The moon became full again