the moon's jaundice is
newly born from the rocky jaws
of the horizon,
turning the fullness of my face
to her, I am
grateful for the softness of
the kiss.
opening my fist
I release the last
prayer into the night
the trees almost sound
like an ocean lost in
the desert nights flow.
the traffic a slow erratic breath,
a broken life struggling
with an incomplete mercy
and the hopelessness of empty hands.
the wind steals the warmth
and memories of your touch,
the simple clarity of loneliness
a focus narrowing to desire
a deity of want
a completeness of purpose
lost in the night
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