I am the moon.
Once, the snow fox curled in my smoky craters
Ivy softened my sides
Dewdrops breathed my air.
Stuff happens. Life. The usual.
I picked my hurts red raw
Opened my scars repeatedly
The scabs healed over. Only dust remains
Now I hang in the glacial Heavens
Too dead to shout, beyond all touch and joy
Your night light. Your comfort.
Your sad old silver King
All of my fires burnt out