An okay night for looking at the moon
The crescent is low tonight,
Floating in the clear black water
Like a child’s ball washed ashore,
Disturbed with a bright flash light.
All you hear is a mute scream
When the light hits its surface.
How easy it is to love
This ball when it’s white and plump,
Its dimples begging for more:
More songs, more sighs, more kisses.
They howl at the reflection.
Would you howl at this sliver?