The Sun and The Moon

The Sun and The Moon

A gross mismanagement

of sacrifice,

leaving tin cups

in the corner

of a distant life.

 

But a life none the less.

 

Spilling over salt

with small gestures,

trying to see through

the cracks

in the floorboards;

the breath that was there

moments ago.

 

Surely a believer

of significance,

a fingernail painted

with all the colors

of the sun.

 

When only the moon,

shines off water.

 

And the glass of the eye

reflects regret,

shrugging off complements

for a chance meeting

with someone of importance.

 

A correspondence with those

held most dear,

emotion;

something I will never have.

 

Ever.