domingo, 17 de febrero de 2008

The Moon

The moon like the eye of a halibut flying through the heavens, watches the minnows bound for the Milky Way.

Like the eye of a halibut flying through the heavens is the moon.

Tonight the moon glistens like the tooth of a crocodile poised at the edge of your imagination.

The moon changes hands as often as gypsy travelers join their palms in celebration.

The moon as smooth as silver on the water cascades over the shoulders of a lost child.

Today the moon grasped the sky, she held him to her belly, closer than a whisper.

The moon, like a silver coin, is the currency of the stars-- they will exchange her virtue for 1000 fireflies. These the gypsies will steal to make lanterns.

Like a dish of milk laid out on a glistening carpet, the moon awaits the innocent indiscretion of a yawning kitten.

Like a platinum pendant glistening on the blossom of the night, her bosom rising and falling with each breath, her gaze is immersed in the ecstasy of each moment. This-very-moment.

The moon is an allusion to a deep nocturnal well of light, a hare once said on his way to a party.

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