There's a moon, you know.
In the sky.
I steal glances sometimes, between holes, when I can.
How fire reigns.
But the moon remains, calm,
Beautiful and tempting, swallowing
The sky, the sun,
Rising alone, burning, destroying hope,
Passionate and hurried.
A sliver in the sky, still
The sun permeates light perverted,
brooding, like an animal trod on, to the corner,
Gnawing at crevices, corners.