Dear Luna:

Stories pass the moon,
and no one is listening to the signs...
Sterling tears fall,
clouds are liars at 3 a.m.

Is the moon awake when we sleep?
Or does she read our dreams.
Do angels dangle their wings
on the edge of dawn,
or catch our fall in the
depth of our dreams.

Where is the black hole
that has no end?
Angels are the lovers of gods
and the mother of friends

The moon is my lover
and I am her spoon.