unblinding light

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nearly invisible     the oval dark of a waning moon
but for the annihilation of galaxies
and a spinning neediness      in me     to see
her unenlightened features
                                                   she’s a bright pair of horns
there’s a grainy texture to an umbral moon
the actual thing in the actual sky resembling
an ancient amateur photograph of itself
blown up to billboard size     at low res
my need to know is pitted with impact craters
i praise her mysteries more than the moon herself
the roughness of her skin more than her pearlescence
or because of it     owing to the inseparability of beauty
                                from the brutality of time
                                    and the keening heart of all that survive
                                innocence
by the beauty of cruelty
                               i mean the patience etched in death’s eyes
after moonset       i’m for bed       while the sky
is a sieve turned upside down and leaking starlight
to guide me toward the ignorance of sleep
till dawn breaks like a pink line of surf in the desert
my nocturne washed smooth as sea-washed sand     only
i can’t forget the veiled face of a hornlit moon
the coarseness of her features     the gentle
humility
of her unblinding light