Thursday, October 23, 2008

lover / lunatic

The Man In The Moon

You were here just moments ago, now gone under cover of clouds.
Hidden from me when it matters most, leaving me cold,
Though truth be told, I've wasted the heat from your sun.
The kiss you left still curls like smoke upon my lips,
Along with a conflagration of mea culpas, a bonfire of sanity
Awaiting the rain and its applauding refrain of,
Let's hear it for the boy, let's give the boy a hand.
For I am still sagacious despite scorpio rising's lunatic whims.
Throw caution to a solar wind and move Venus nearer to Mars,
Her bluish hue suffusing his red haze, ushering in empurpled dawn.
The taste of new morning light will scour our mouths
Of criticism's carrion, leaving fresh-cut flowers lining throats
That swallow deep the abrading, fluvial rush of all apologies,
Carving the anhydrous marias of the moon into a relief of my face.

still from George Méliès 1903 film, A Trip to the Moon

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