it’s another one
of those nights
where i’m cradlin the pillow
sofly as if my arm
is wrapped around a significant other
with her back against my chest.
but like a forever endin theme,
it’s a fall asleep
until finally wakin up
as if the eyes
carried a little rust,
where the full moon
clearly was a fixture
comin thru my bedroom window.
but when it moves
into a new moon,
it’s just another dark moon
that resembles no love life,
n i just have to move thru
another eleven days
until the gibbous moon arrives,
n its hump-backed appearance
conveys she’s in a wonderful view.
creativity matters on this day,
n it’s nice to just move around the phases
of the moon in the surround feel
that carries so much impact.
so, when i’m viewin
the waxin fertile crescent,
it means it’s all about takin it,
n turnin it like a hammock,
where waxin is a mutual orgasmic experience
to show poetry caters to relationships
to end the endless cycles of dark moons
with value in a follow thru.

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