Spooning the Moon

 

I want to spoon the moon
Feel the cool concave curve
Pressed to my face
The soft light
Falling on my half-shut eyelids
Coaxing the color to peek out
Midnight black spotted white
The orbs of sparks float on by
Brushing against the soft underside of my arm
Leaving tendrils of cream
To swirl lazily about my body.

Floating in my own milky way
My hair flurls out to catch
Flakes of lunar dust
Curling gently around them
Holding and cradling each speck
In the loops and spirals
They drift aimlessly outward
No weight, no worry.

My fingers trace absent minded circles
On the smooth glass surface
Over and over they draw
Causing small craters to open
And catch the tears
Of the ink well above, below, and inside
The sad empty space

My fingers created pockets of hope
To be held forever in glass sworls
Dripping, and dropping, and dripping
A soothing rhythm
Echoing across galaxies and comets
Never-ending.

The silent moon
Found it’s voice
While tucked in close
To my curved body.

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About delightfulness

One sweet, quirky, delightful individual I am.
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4 Responses to Spooning the Moon

  1. This is has a tingling beauty to it – what a fascinating concept…to spoon the moon. I really enjoyed this!

  2. weaverofwords says:

    Exceptionally beautiful and beautifully written. Well done.

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