Moon Water
I dream of pools of water on the surface of the moon
They are overfull of a brine unlike that of the salt sea
Their taste is foreign, their color drained, their waves do sleep
Sorrowful, they lay cold placid, so unmoved by my swoon
Far away and off do these languid waters lie by day
But in my unending dreams they come close to me to weep
The waters wash over me and their unknown salt runs free
Oddly sweet, like confection of a dull and painful way
When I wake, the salt lingers on my lips in sheer regret
Those tears are not mine to taste, my rude dream has intruded
Yet the waters of the moon are so sweet in my vain mind
They hold me and kiss me in a way I cannot forget
At first I thought I could nigh ignore these selfish fancies
But they only pulled me the harder, as though silver-lined
In night, enveloped in love, but in day so excluded
Oh those sweet waters do pull, and I hope that man so sees
