the moon hung
in petulant shades
of pink
with orange splotches
like bruises
across the pitted face
glaring down at me
in a mix of
disappointed disapproval
for forsaking
the comfort of bed
to traverse
the empty roads

i am tired
but the vacuous embrace
found in
a queen sized void
where the fool
curls up at the end
an obedient pet
gracefully accepting
dreamkicks
for the proximity
as one dull ache
is replaced
with a deeper kind