moonlight

her body folds up into

a crescent, stormclouds

scheming on her eyelids,

pale in the light of which

she sees the world around

her in dustwoven curtains shut

arms around her knees rocking

glassy and empty eyed,

i wonder if she is cold in the space

that she confines herself in,

if the stars warm her,

or if i, ever chasing her gray

complexion against the walls

of the bottom floor apartment,

muttering a few aphorisms

like ramshackle rays

over a cold horizon,

could ever comfort her.

 

she asks me if i had seen the moon.

i reply that i had.

she smiles weakly,

returning the blinds into place.

 

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Edited w/ suggestions from LGBT