there once
was a man who
loved the moon

no

that is
unfair
it belittles
his dedication
implies he
is touched
by the spirit
of madness
not just
madly
in love

for who could
possibly
love
the moon?

the coldly
aloof spectre
hanging
demurely
in the night
the wan
relfection
with a dark side
barely seen
by humanity

what secrets
does she keep
hidden as she
slowly fades
into a cheshire
smile in a
sea of velvety
onyx radioactive
dissonance
two hundred and
thirty eight
thousand miles
from prying eyes

and what does
that say of the man
so in love
with her silver
gleam shimmering
on the placid sea
willing to spill
his very soul
give his life
in devotion
to her distant
incomparable beauty
knowing all he
will ever find
is her silence
in reciprocation

love does not
understand the
inherent
difficulties
in freely
relinquishing
one’s self into
the embrace of
vulnerability

but he felt
the cellular
surrender
embraced her
despite the
lunacy of
loving across
the many miles
gently enveloped
in her quiet

perhaps he
was just a coward
it didn’t change
his feelings
as he sat alone
waiting for her
to rise
his stomach in
a series of knots
patiently needing
to be bathed
in her stolen light
to feel a brief
connection in
this lonesome world

there once
was a man who
loved the moon

and a moon
who was unaware
he existed

but he didn’t
get to choose his
delusion
he only had to
justify it
to himself
and that
it turned out
was a secret power
he had long
since mastered