Dancing, Shifting
The fully flooded moonsky Is lighting glowing black-grey. Underneath the mustard sun, The dreams are melting. I smile, far more honest than my usual, Interpreting her private language Of dancing hands and shifting shoulders. My stomach blazes. Smoke intoxicates attempts at thinking. There are days I know she knows And day I doubt she's ever noticed. Mercy narrowed thin her eyes. We'd never survive them otherwise. A setting sun is bleeding out. I settle hoping for another dream, A fantasy wherein she sees. - 5/22/26