I cannot see you
But I can feel your
Wide encircling reflections
Twisting
Slowly, bruising
Everything in your path
Moon bow, scarred indigo.
With this second-hand glow
We are losing the stars
But you, only you, remain
Desolate Goddess
Your craters tilt sullenly
Dripping their light right down
Just like an old, broken tap
A light you can suffer
Safe in its secrecy
A white excuse for me
Creator of deepest shadows
Our pock-marked watcher
Unrequited companion
In unimaginable solitude
A witching hour flower
Moon bow, scorched indigo.

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