The moon careens across the night sky
even sometimes during the day
floating for a time over the steeples of the city
we watch from the wrong side of a river
we spend our whole lives living beside
moon who is pale face stirs up her face
even when I want it
otherwise
a haunting presence
ever presence in the sky
in my eyes painful for wanting
what I can never have
waxing and waning
the way she does at times
casting me in her favorable light
or blinding me with
darkness
on those terrible New Moon nights
and still I stare up taking all she has to offer
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