Fruit of the Moon
Oh the fruit that gives you blood when you drink its own,
The moon, that gives you love when no one else will,
The fire that we should stare at til our eyes grow tired,
The ride when we can tell that this is all worth it,
And there is no map worthy of a life that’s mine,
Though topographic pathways can trace my lines
Like rivulets leading to the Pacific
Size is unimaginable, like the sky.
The ocean of nectar I’m swimming in has depths, uncertain, and you’re right next to me
But I might not so much as ever even brush against you, if I’m not paying attention where I’m going to
The sweetness of the bath, the sense of things that pass,
I can just appreciate the chance.
So swim with me, darling, if you’ve got the inkling to dance.