2024-01-04

poetry/l/luna.txt

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+Luna
+2019-10-26
+
+***
+
+a marathon runner, come close to the finish line
+thoughts full of impending victory
+mouth waters for cheap wine
+
+but the goalposts suddenly sprout feet
+and take up a race of their own
+all the while taunting defeat
+
+and the other runners catch up to where I scramble
+the goal post flickers back for a moment-
+and I trip, and underfoot I'm trampled
+
+left in the dust, a bruised and bloody mess
+stumbling forward, ragged beast on last leg
+struggling to regain a semblance
+
+of what I've lost.
+
+***
+
+I wait for you on the street corner
+light just as yellow as the note in my hand
+and as dim as the future of which I'm the owner
+
+the autumn breeze blows fierce against the bitter night sky
+and the leaves blow around
+vagrants passing by
+
+and then I see you there.
+
+a thousand different escapades sworn under the moon
+eyes of all colors, means of all kinds
+but never did I think my time would come so soon
+
+her hair is down
+a frame the color of her emotions
+a perpetual frown
+
+she smiles only for me.
+
+twin magnets, sudden embrace
+familiar scent as I breathe her in
+tongue tied, stumbling through unfamiliar grace
+
+she merely responds with a smirk and says,
+"here, take my hand.
+I know a way to start again."
+
+***
+
+how do you fit a person through a keyhole?
+it's easy, if only you know how.
+you break them down into pieces, strip out their soul
+and slip them in like a whisper, like breathing a sound
+
+the cords on the raft glisten in the moonlight
+as we tighten them one last time
+abandoning all at the banks, prepared for parents' fright
+I am forever yours, and you are mine
+
+and we set off down the river Styx
+lie down and watch the leaves on the surface spin
+silver and steady, glimmering Nyx
+consoling us for the mess we've found ourselves in
+
+forced to choose between tyrannical home
+and exile into the world to foray
+I cast myself out into lands unknown
+because I've decided it's not my time to decay
+
+***
+
+the tunnel entrance draws near
+and together we tangle ourselves
+my hand rests close to her ear
+
+fingertips, soft temple skin underneath
+where I would have gladly worshipped more
+gladly be a heathen
+
+clammy skin, lips bidding each other goodnight
+a shared pair of lungs, empty in wait for the other side
+we squeeze shut our eyes and pray for welcoming light
+
+***
+
+CC BY-NC-SA 4.0 (c) Vane Vander