destruction of the moon
you grew into a habit I could not break myself
of, left me bereft one day after allowing your stain
to pour forth in cherry blossom kisses as pink as your
lips which once fell over me in seasons of love; I
didn’t know what to do when you left me for dead —
my lungs burned as if I’d never breathed before,
as if the salt falling from my eyes was eroding them
instead of the vast plains of naturally rosy cheeks;
I chopped down the trees of your love and tore down
your monoliths of lies, I watched as they shattered
to be blown away as dust by the wind; I wandered
lonely as a star hung alone in a lazuline night
with only the cruel moon for company, I crumbled the
moon into the mouth of the hungry sea because it was you.
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