It’s true
I love her more than you
It’s always been this way
Captivated by her luminous ways
Fixated on her hypnotic gaze
No matter how lost I’ve ever felt
To my knees, I’ve knelt
And prayed
And yet- still she guides the way
When she bleeds
I bleed
When she’s full
I overflow
Eclipsing and transfixing
A connection impossible of replication
Mistress of manifestation
She’s heard my howls
Only to her shall I recite my vowels
Bonded by the cosmos
Controlling the ethos
The source of all beginnings
And endings
Ever evolving
Good tidings to you
My beloved moon



Image by Manzel Bowman



Poetry is like a garden
Blossoming on the tips
Of our tongues
Intoxicating aroma
Delicately delightful
But yet- we still get stung