Moon eyes watching
Moon eyes watering,
magnified. Yellow and waning.
Light becoming shy of its surface again.
From the spire peaking above the stratosphere I watch
Into the gray heavens with its rolling silver vapor
the yellow moon and its phantom breath,
the horizon rolls and becomes new.
From the room within the spire I become old.
I speak in echoes and find comfort in dead stone walls.
Moon eyes growing wider. Yellow and waxing.
Light radiating from its surface again.
From the spire I witness the crescendo. The phantom breath softens.
Born at the new, die at the full.
My eyes look down on a spire peaking above the clouds.
I see a woman from the window, eyes cold and silver.
I hear her echoes from my own heart.
My eyes watering. Yellow and waning.
My eyes. Watching.
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