The Southern Moon

She trembles in her poetic words

Like a daisy in the night,

And she stumbles upon them

And rejects her own plight

Oh what a mighty star we have begun

The old and the young; I tremble for her

What naked night is this

Without a plight?

Such trickery harms the living stars

And the southern moon dances no more

She is the age of the living sex that breathes

Therefore she is only a casualty--

Oh living stars do breathe on their own

I can only hope for eternity

Oh southern moon, my darling

Will you wake upon your sleep?

Will you smile at me

While I'm far away?

Will you dance with me

In the night?

For you are so pretty when you're quiet

For you are no longer howling for lost words

Truth and death bestow upon you

The greatest gifts--

Surrender to the living, for the living suits you;

And your plight is a wonderful thing,

Do you believe in you?

Do you tell yourself of these poetic words

That move you?

Oh still is the night--

The birds are a living sight

Dressed in your momentum

That was once poetic to me.

And dare I say, what lovely lies you speak

Across the ocean near and far

Across the skies that weep,

Can you imagine all your lies in a play?

How dramatic it will be

The plots, the schemes, the truth--

I see you in the ocean light

Dancing with your hair,

But only in a dream

For dreams are only spoken for

When they're dead.