Ballet of the Moon and Maiden

It was darling
how she stood on point to beg
the moon

Don’t forget me, Lover
just hold me
down when I lose my footing
and let the tide take me home

Rhythmically, she stepped forward.
She was porcelain and shadows
with salt in her nose.
The moon stood silent
and dipped her;
held her hand

just below the surface,
her hair swayed with the seagrass.

The coral contemplated

her coda.