(no subject)

[saint_monkey]

the moon fell in love
with our washbasin
left to bask in the glow
(and collect rain or dew
for morning's sweet sunshow's
washing)
the moon stilled over such porcelain
perfection
(so unlike his pockmarked pate!)
and smothered it
with airy kisses
light
till the dawn
when my lover, sleep sticky
opened the scree-
-n door
and he fled
from her and the sun
and wept his tears of
darkness
like slow blood
to the night
and he dreamed of the hour
when he could
be with his love
and hold his
poor pot
forever
              forever
                            forever.