this moonlight
is no spun silver (as once i
supposed, and as myth
so prettily painted) but rather,
a hardy stainless steel,
plated and
bound close
to my window,
a blinding blankness.
i would be crying (perhaps,
my tears could shine),
but
the moonlight refuses.
is no spun silver (as once i
supposed, and as myth
so prettily painted) but rather,
a hardy stainless steel,
plated and
bound close
to my window,
a blinding blankness.
i would be crying (perhaps,
my tears could shine),
but
the moonlight refuses.