there are days we really miss and days we’re delighted to see go   that’s the trail we each have, sections that left scars from brambles and bushes   and portions we loved to walk and still re-walk, pulling weeds and snapping branches to keep clear   we add benches to those places to sit when we’re old   places the moon loves to light when it sees we need help remembering   or   when one more dawn is just too far away

therapist and I, two strangers address the autopsy of a life lying on a table, long and wide   scalpels sharp, the slices deep blood needing blotting, together, we cut deeper   past the scars of old injuries around bullets lodged in the past all the way to my earliest years   when skin was soft and pressable, bruised dark purple and emotions were too afraid to open their mouths   my issues - anger and control upset, at times, with what I can’t control, dismayed every time, at

you’ll think it’s just silly, wishing for another moon to keep this one company   except, you do know what it’s like, I’m sure, pining for someone at a distance   usually one-sided and based on very thin and long strings of affection   a barely acknowledged love for one a crushing ache for the other   from what I see, the sun is just one of a million things to shine on   I bet you be moved to see a pair of moons in the night sky, in a slow spin around each other   and this ti