—THE MOON WON’T EVER TELL THE SUN THAT IT CAN’T RISE

 

 

Elastic

 

I write thousands of words 

a dribble of consonants and syllables 

that spill like virgin blood

but they’re never enough

The crane still sits on the dock 

pondering the flattened waves

The moon hangs loose as a tooth 

in a sky that doesn’t want it back

The morning says I need you I want you 

You are my all and everything

while my notebook catches fire

sparks rising up like too-proud balloons

that were never meant to be held

or even filled with air