Lune

If by reason
I need to follow
I would rather be mad.

To follow is to lose
the shine of darkness and
my world in its empty delight.

Velvety moss,
dipped in hollow verses
when I lay I look and imagine
to fly to cry.

To fly, I went
and held in my hands
the yellows, the blues, and the reds
until each dies into black abyss.

And looking down
eternal deaths in a maze
half in the glinting sun
the rest in the sight of lune.

 

January

We walked on, to your old home
like it was not too long.
Up the elevator we listened
to the same old, same gold.
On the fourth we stepped out
to exactly how it was,
but your home, long gone.

White door, white walls,
the broken chair,
empty halls.

Down the elevator we listened
to the same old, same gold.
Read out what was written
on the wall, same old.

Out in the streets, looking up
the moonlight
Getting kissed, under the moon halo
in the moonlit night
we know we missed the mistle toe
But
Out in the streets, looking up
the moonlight
Getting kissed, under the moon halo
In the moonlit night
Missing the mistletoe was fine, it was all right.

A

Maybe I loved you
when the stars were different from tonight
they still shine
but not the same light
now faded and wandering
from yesterday’s dreaming.

You were there but never captured
in pictures long forgotten
around the round surrounding me.

I should have known you then
when I knew you when
like I know you now
under different skies, calmer seas.

Birds have flown,
the moon a thousand nights risen.

I gazed openly at your face
a maze, a treasure found in rains long dried
without a map to never tell.