The Moon

 

The moon propels you like taillights
next to the off-white
of shallow sombreros—
a mesmerizing act to follow.

In the alley across the moon,
you parachute to the ground
from the gravity of my soul.
You follow nature in disquiet.

Your vehicle does not dim
until you fall out of the connection
to and from the destination.
There are people who could hamper

and those who could let go.
You land with simple joy.
Living is anything but luxury.
The body dispels the mundane.

(                            ) otherness.
(                            ) isolation.

 

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