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

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.