I cannot see you But I can feel your Wide encircling reflections Twisting Slowly, bruising Everything in your path Moon bow, scarred indigo. With this second-hand glow We are losing the stars But you, only you, remain Desolate Goddess Your craters tilt sullenly Dripping their light right down Just like an old, broken tap A light you can suffer Safe in its secrecy A white excuse for me Creator of deepest shadows Our pock-marked watcher Unrequited companion In unimaginable solitude A witching hour flower Moon bow, scorched indigo.