Tomorrow Is The Full Moon


There is light from overhead.

And there is full-moon light

that leaks through your walls.

Light that seeps through your clothes

and worms in your thoughts.


A thing

so silent and sly

we were made

to feel

it was us —not it

that made our choices.


We are

both so much water.

We are of

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the same water

that had been

convinced once

that it too

was master

of its own destiny.


But like every moon-tugged tide

that rises and

retreats back

into its familiar sea

we continue to believe


that tomorrow’s moon

will be just another

light from overhead.