Harlequin haven of the night
how beautiful is its breath
which is but a whisper of stars
tickling upon my neck
the moon is a white peach
soft and delicate, yet bruised
from scornful words that we preach
to a god which has long forgotten us
I take a bite out of the moon
because it sleeps so low in the sky
and I may reach out, and pluck it from its place
Celestial nights I do taste
Sweet and warm, immersed
in silk skies, red sunsets and a sunrise
of many hues, that stroke the eyes
A harlequin haven, this is what it tastes like
(6th May 2013)
