Days of the moon

 I met you my moon

underneath shadows of a noon

where windy chills calm to room

cluelessly, I traded betrothal for doom

a bequeath in a boom like ka boom

a little bit too soon.

Just like a full moon

you killed not the dark, but

unveiled the beauty of the night

shining your glistening glimmer

overflowing in ornaments and incenses

we traded whispers for whimpers.

Tons of giliter added over

beauty in it's immenseness

when I had not a thing to offer

before a taste of the flavor of your lips

I gave a heart away for collateral

battered for an apple of an eye.

As time goes around the clock

hours fold into days, days of a moon

gone to hiding behind the clouds

apples turned into onions of eyes

after dusk in the sharpest of nights

where the brightest of stars never shines.

Like a candle that melts down to wax

blown by anxious winds in the night

a river of tears streams down my cheeks

like logs split by axe blades of steel

I can feel something inside me shatter 

and the pieces of that thing scatter.

Along avenues of innocence

once was I on a search stroll

for that same frankincense 

in kisses and hugs of the unknown 

shuffeled twice roled thrice up like a dice

stuck in a trance of your redolence.

Vacantly void with a heart out of place

thirteen years down the road

I still count down on the days of a moon

holding on the hopes of maybe someday

my moon will rise once again someday

for what goes round, comes back round.

november (the black poet)

*woes of somber hearts*

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