The moon spars under a black tarp,
An abrasion of silver glinting
Like the chords of a severed chrysalis.
Who unzips you, fictitious sister?
Who exsanguinates your ripe heart
That each month you retreat
Behind a famished smile?
Is it either the favored sun
Or the red-faced warlord
Opposed by your sovereign?
I wrote several little poems yesterday on the bus. I will be pretty distracted the next two weeks. My national exam is coming up and well I have a lot going on at the moment.