Full Moon  August 9, 2025

— for the blue-skinned one  

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I and Thou are two spiders

Who descended star fiber in total dark 

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We fell slow after choosing to come here

And learned to panic by the groundless rush 

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This myth of controlled birth, these shapes & colors

all this wandering adrift in a sea of otherness

is how it feels to be afraid & alone here

in this rainwet world of exquisite anguish 

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I cling to you as beauty & power even from afar

after so many years of not seeing you clearly

there is something of thy deep passion

present in the volatile mountain grasses

that flow together when my ocean sighs 

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Whoever you have become in this turning wheel

I long our distance be near to source

& let sorrow settle out in moonlight

or fire or water or time, just so.‍

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