We follow the rhythm we follow the rhyme,
The moon reflects in the sink, a world without time.
Sleep drifts with us, the dawn has begun,
When we have the wisdom to follow the sun.
I smile and I gaze at a star-filled night sky,
The birds and the animals, their spirits will die.
Our lament will be short, and sweet as we laugh,
For the moon, it is captured like a cheap photograph.
And we are hidden away from that which is real,
A moon without sunrise, that cold fingers can’t peel.
Whipped and churned, wrinkled and unworthy,
Our love in its shadow, our dawn comes too early.
The hue of the colour is tarnished with blood,
Whilst copper is better it echoes with wood.
And the quakes of the moon, so distant and silenced,
Casts silver light glistening to those who wish violence.
The food of the moon is the dust in our hands,
We seek to make justice from impossible plans.
To be human in essence, to be bold for our shame,
And though the moon is our ghost, it calls out our names.
Earthbound planets forever, to gaze and to wonder,
We see our geometry, we hear the crackle of thunder.
Do we exist below it, or above it perhaps?
Aeons of minerals seep out of its cracks.
I love you, you know, I tried to see what you saw,
I may well have dreamt this as I peered from your door.
I need you, I miss you, we’ll soon light a fire,
The globe in the cosmos sparked out with desire.
The weather is clear, the craters invisible,
Glass plays it’s tricks, the technology is miserable.
The photons are smashing at our ruby red lips,
And we kiss in the solitude of an arcing eclipse.
We tremble amongst it, we know not what it is,
Ancient acres of darkness, decades of bliss.
We have waited in turn to fathom this beauty,
One thing it ain’t is tangerine fruity.