black

(loonar)

250,000 miles away, his shadow still fits perfectly in. at least the moon shows ivory. His smiles few and far apart, occasions for such niceties even more sparse. at least the moon shows that thin crescent of white, on either side of the cycle. pitch black if he sits back, sifts back, patterns of ills wherever he rests and thinks at. rooftop, knoll, porch, stained glass, pane everywhere. at least the moon shines bright, like, its the very center of his universe. accurate. his animal spirit if you wish. too similar. dark surfaces, disillusioned to be light and, gravitational pull, causing tides and, bare all, nair side, tuned out, pharcyde plans. he in his pensive feels like 4.5 million years of sin, about right. silent howls, calling out to better, higher, bigger than him. time is running away, each day, each night, 18th, responsibility and decisions nigh. ethereal how connected he feels. ebony, ivory, he smiles at the familiarity. dark side, lost cries.