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In between the Earth and the Sun,
what else is there for a Black Moon to do —
but show up and demand everything it desires.
As reckless as this life remains.
As hungry for answers as the hunter without prey.
As empty as the lonely — swallowing their own hearts behind gritted teeth trying to thrive in the shadows of bad company.
In this timeless existence with endless floods,
there are towering infernos building in the back of throats —
calling from the ash with megaphones
‘stand aside’, as women rise
and men doth their crowns to her phoenix in flight.
Now, the Universe is truly alive —
and rises like lanterns in the corneas of blank stares masking once dead eyes.
I dream dreams with an uncompromising attitude,
filled with the desires of the Black Moon,
full of clouds that break as the night falls exploding into stars —
raining stardust like droplets of breaths breathing new life through the hair, down the spine, onto sleepy skin,
into the open mouths of everybody under the Black Moon tonight.
