The crescent moon that’s not looking at you

Has the moon reduced your yearning into oblivion?

Right when you extended your

arms in joy like a curious tuberose

only to be left with the faint light

of the sight you had been dreaming

knowing that every breath is a tiny step

toward the ultimate leap which

enlivens your longing

for the waxing crescent you could call yours…

Was it at this point the moon betrayed you?

You wish you could fly upto it

with your wings of desire

and offer your love like

pearls for it to turn around,

look you in the eye and see

what it means to transcend all

that existed primarily as an obstruction.

But you wouldn’t do that, would you?

You think and I think so too

if your love, your longing needs

to be expressed with words to someone

indifferent to your actions,

to your dancing on the tunes they

forgot they created, taking

something to be ordinary what

you believe to be love, to them…

what does it matter?

And here you are, blooming

still counting every breath

for it to look at you…

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