Night’s nimble fingers drag the sun over the horizon
Like a predator hoarding its prey out of sight.
The sun, in its helplessness, bleeds the sky.
Romantics bask in its wounds,
Admiring its shades of anguish.
Uninhibited, the full moon bends her face
And recklessly plunges her velvet tongue through the sky,
Bruising the boy… with a kiss.