"It is a moon that has no language"

It is a moon that has no language
that hangs tongue-tied cutting away
at itself in an alphabet
it has derived for itself. But
all you do is look up
and call it beautiful
though I can see it bleeding
its black blood into the night

I want to tell you
I like the death of a star
streaking across the sky
like a virus that has lost its step
that must now fall through
a purgatory of moon blood
like a wish always
on the verge of turning true

But you’re already turning away.

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