i cut my lip while
kissing your lazuli eyes
under a blood moon
last night, at least
a decade ago
it seems today
bone pale, you laughed
as you tossed your
ebon hair away
cast it to the stars to
wash my cut away
i only wished
i had listened harder
before i grew stone
in sternum and
memorized the how
of that song on the
breeze that night
5 responses to “under a blood moon”
Wonderful slice of melancholia, Michael.
Hindsight is a mesmerising curse, I think.
My wonder is if anything is ever memory or phantasy; I suspect it is more of the latter than of the former.
I think you may be correct.
Excellent. Feels like it could be put to music.
Perhaps. With the right rhythm it could be done 🙂