The Man is the Moon / 7-26-2000

She promised she would blow kisses to the moon. As twilight succumbed to darkness, I saw the moon, but nothing fell from it. I didn’t feel her lips against mine or her solid embrace. I only saw a lonely transient silently hanging in the sky, static and void.

I saw the cold pale moon and saw only myself. It runs it’s path across the sky reflecting my own. A path deliberate and unchanging. Silent, Alone. A straight line that seems to go nowhere, only to return to the same place over and over again. The cycle is proven and unchanging. Though the surroundings may change, this world may change, the stars may shift their positions, live, burn then die, I remain constant. Drifting slowly and alone through the cool dark night.