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Rabbit Petitions to the Moon
I thought I wrote too much of you.
Your name rang on the page
like a terrible meter
I can never get enough of;
when the truth was
I was lost on the ways in which
to hold you out,
strange pearl in a sea of elements.
To borrow you from that cold throne
and claim you away from each silver drop,
that having you meant you
losing stead in every jilted's glass.
Thoughts of you were chore
when my eyes decided
to rid of you,
convicted the silence as peace
from the deficits of your beauty,
like your shape was a stain
of no resolve.
So I glasscut you out of place
in my saddest poems
and sent you circling back
to your twinkled colonies.
Forgive me
for forgetting
of your miracle come
slivering in quartered light,
that I can only have you once
each day.
© Mav P.
Your name rang on the page
like a terrible meter
I can never get enough of;
when the truth was
I was lost on the ways in which
to hold you out,
strange pearl in a sea of elements.
To borrow you from that cold throne
and claim you away from each silver drop,
that having you meant you
losing stead in every jilted's glass.
Thoughts of you were chore
when my eyes decided
to rid of you,
convicted the silence as peace
from the deficits of your beauty,
like your shape was a stain
of no resolve.
So I glasscut you out of place
in my saddest poems
and sent you circling back
to your twinkled colonies.
Forgive me
for forgetting
of your miracle come
slivering in quartered light,
that I can only have you once
each day.
© Mav P.
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