The moon is melting
onto my nipples
I can only lie still,
inhale the night
I let my eyelashes catch
the twinkling of the stars-
that snicker to remind me
I have never been this
late realizing
I should've memorized
the dimensions of that smile
I was consumed by the weeds
of the misleading void
The sun has always been
that fake friend I can do without
In MY garden,
petals fall violently,
so charismatically
The birds know
every Depeche Mode b-side
His distance waters me sparingly,
which is the only way I grow
Dean's alright with me
and he's trapped here in my head
where nightmares are planted
every mourning
for this masochist to bloom
and drown in the moonshine
The fading to black is all the light I need
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem