Only in the night do I feel full,
where the darkness cuts the light stark clear.
Sparked awake by th’sugar treats:
jangling, cooing, thumping melodies.
* * *
But then the moon must always fall,
revealing all the messiness.
Warped from the ghost with th’world on strings
to choke on millions of inhuman human abstract things.
Falling wind…
weak leaves shake on ends
bright & dim.
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