Waxing

She rises with the moon
Passing through the forest glade
Taller than the pines
She pulls a branch from a bare oak
Bringing the severed part to her lips
She turns it up and drinks it in
To the dregs
This wine
This blood of the earth
Intoxicated
She dances across the water
Lacking only a lover
She sees him shining in the ripples
She blows him a kiss
Surely it will arrive
Heavy with the weight of the world
But he always falls into the ocean
And she always burns off in the sun

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3 thoughts on “Waxing

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