again with the moon

we act with varying degrees of premeditation,
and you know how the dangerous moon must do what it does.

because of this i can’t tell if the threatened confession —
the siren song of the road —
is more or less than calculated temptation.

i want you to say something true.

i thought we’d forgotten how to dream,
but goddamn if we don’t wake again to the strains of that sweetest song.

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About Emily

I may or may not have: A. Dirt B. Ink C. Paint D. Wool under my fingernails.

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