Howl
Lunatic
I am in love with the Moon.
Some call me a lunatic;
my lunar tick resembles a wolf howl,
a primal hunger well below higher thought.
I monitor her cycles,
transfixed by her luminescence.
My eyes form cataracts to
mimic her milky presence;
the way she dances across darkened skies
mesmerizes me every night.
She graced me with her presence
once. I normally see her
in my dreams, but I got lucky –
for three whole months,
she was absent from her celestial throne.
The world around us plunged into chaos,
but our sphere of influence
was heavenly. Bodies colliding,
our breaths shared a rhythm
the tides would envy.
I lost track of time
gazing deep into her every night;
her full phase charged my beating heart,
its tempo crashing heavier than oceans
upon the surf.
Slowly, the skies began howling
for the High Priestess – the sea
needed a master, and Gaia
missed her mother.
I could tell she didn’t want
to leave me; I noticed my own desperation
reflected on her pale surface.
Her ascension was beautiful to behold,
but did little to relieve the weight in my chest.
Maybe our romance couldn’t last forever –
I am still in love with the Moon.
I will always be a lunatic,
whose howls shake the stars
held within my own verse.
I quiver like the restless ocean,
awaiting my true love’s return
with my toes dipping into the surf.
Cire Luey Freemind
