Dear moon I still exist even
when it’s cloudy for
we see now selfishly, as through a mirror of water vapor,
but hang
in there, I will write you another letter.
Dear moon do you remember how I told
you one time I would never worship you
on an airplane? Well lately I find myself
finished with the bulk of my paperwork.
When these bilingual flight attendants
cease their snoring, do you wait for me.
Dear moon what I always feared would happen
did.
When it was over,
I no longer loved
snow.
My kind landlord
had bought me a bike so I pushed it to the coast
and did some
mattress shopping. Here, everything must
go.
Dear moon our relationship feels different, here
on this tan paddle boat
tossed to
and fro by the indifferent wind
and waves.
I can’t tell if I feel closer to you or if I hate you.