Moon Poems


Unlike us, who falter halfway,
Who rescind our selves,
Who relapse in relief
With the pride of having
Redirected, reconsidered, reviewed
And rejected our trajectory—
Unlike we who, in short, retreat—
It grows to repletion.


Turning back from its fullest
It self-annihilates before human eyes
As if tiring of being
Loved so greedily—
And with nothing but its inertia,
How many times has it rebirthed itself?
The same inertia
With which it waned away

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