the moon
by Tanner Brockwell
the moon
too soon the night
slips and slides
between limbs
embraced
and rise or fall
the softest call
murmured hush
or rapidly the breathing deep
and long and hard
for hungering to satisfy
to find for time solaced
we together we
and there is a moment
just in between when craving
tips of fingers slip
and trembling trace a supremely arc
that in betwixt and betwixt
splayed amongst these tangled limbs
unearthly shine of nightly time
the light a full and winsome hue
light light and shades that lunar sway
that night would rule where earth
vanishes in after waves
waves that touched the tangling touch
for cries of twice or again too much
to join surpass and uniting fly
these wings we fast upon
winging beneath slightly rays
the glint upon the tips a sheen
and slick the touch moves once again
no wings would fly too high to kiss
that once in a dive diving missed
the shore is wide and dancing sighs
upon the lips a kiss would my
placed with tender inner why
and why oh there for once and thrice
again for thrice would fly
that o’er the air the misty clime
would linger once for this a timeless
to move again to tangling launch
for touch of in of on or thoughts
for this is close this place of dreams
they arrive as soft as lidded
as the flickers of images last
and stay in deep where find we sleep
we find we keep close as we are
as close we are and sleep is here
for sleep we must we must
of dreams upon a far flung shore
to visit once then visit more
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