the moon makes it a habit to delight in the thirst for a more worthy battle 

Finds it’s fix in the bloom & decay

the moon loves to feel

 it’s a fetish

it wanes comfortably into its incompleteness 

& climbs into bed with its corpses 

a grand ballet of gravity

The moon finds its solace in starvation 

savors self sacrifice 

& succumbs to its stars