Pulling away from my body, too soon
To break out from these molecules, abide
In my steaming and venting to the moon,
Just as smoke signals on the mountainside,
My breath bitter, intoxicating smoke
(It hurts, expelling this dense, charcoal spew).
Gasping for purity, alas, you woke
To my smothering, enveloping you
In the unrav’ling spool of my esse.
I unwind more and more, like fine, silk cloth—
Soft, the typhoon of my mind unto thee;
The moon rises, soot muddies the sea’s froth.
Once more, I make mournful love to myself
And pray to the moon so she spares your health.