Goodnight Sun, Morning Moon

lives in transition,
lives in transit pass me by
and as oft they leave imprints deep and warm they leave,
they leave.
Where will I be in a year,
in less,
where is the world where willing ones will themselves wayward on.
All bets are off for those sitting solo in the circle,
chips down,
aces high,
poker faced for the masses.
Each moment hits us in a round of voices
never seeming to be sleeping
all the while eyes closed to each other.
Bitter weather comes and holds the bitter winter blues
for those without fires.
Stay warm,
keep warm,
else left depressed from sun’s lack of love
so distant in the blackness,
so far from all heat,
one cannot help to be orbital,
slingshot yourself to spring
and give birth again 24,
hours of what dew drops bring to flowers,
keep up, keep at ’em,
keep warmth in heart and soul,
because you can’t steal what isn’t yours
from the heartaches of living stores.
Prevention is the best medicine
to keep light what might be heavy,
leaden not your feelings,
you need them to stay alive.
Do so, and be happy.
Dream escapes when hiding is no longer an option,
and as they say it never is.
Fiction is reality is fantasy is nonfiction.
Enjoy your beleifs,
delusions to sedate,
lubricate the grit salt sand of the season,
that melts the white out away anyway.

I’ve always enjoyed the cold, kept numb
heart dumb
slow
down
I like the lack of heat, creeping in
through my window pane
a little draft
a little daft
I am
to like so what licks
my toes so my nose though
reddens wets
and ah ah ah ah
sneezes, blows.

Cool pillow, cold sheets
let me warm you,
you’ll not warm me
and bitterly
absence stings
disheartened things
that lurk in night
in dark
in black.
White specks, upon that mat
dandruff of the clouds peering out their telescopes
brightly down up left right inverted reverted at
can’t tell up from anything down from even more
in space you cannot tell the ceiling from the floor.

Sun I you are so far away, can you I come back to you me
to stay?
Neigh
so softly sweetly
twirling, turning, tilting, spilling
revolving evolving
resolute revolution
I must awake with the cock, and greet him ‘ere the morn
as my mistress moon sleeps and the sun’s reborn
so that all the day I may find a way to be gladdened just once more
at having so nice a time to fly up in Apollo’s sky, greet me lady Sun
and hand me to your moon, when you are ready to sleep again
I hope to see you soon.

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