My Moon
Flickering after sunset.
After my rain.
Tired, soaked and wet.
Dimming in wane.
Waited for days and days
as she emerged.
Sending me in haze.
My heart surged.
“Still waiting for me?”
she asked.
“Where would I be?”
“Hoping it’s the bed”
Giggling at my joke,
listing to me,
hearing my stutter, my talk.
Waiting for her to see.
Waning, waxing, again and again,
breaking my heart,
sending my mind insane.
Waiting for her to start.
To grip, to twist, to hold
me in her hands so soon
to love, to play, to mold.
Can’t help it. She is my Moon.
