The Moon, Dripping Honey

37 1 2
                                    

you're running
up the eiffel tower, taking
the stairs two at a time
and beckoning for me
to run faster and
laughing at me for
falling behind
and then we're
at the top and

the glimmering city lights
are at your feet;
you look back at me,
smile, you
dive over the rail
and dance
between the glittering lights.
I laugh and my breath
sketches a cloud
in the chilly air.

your face towards
the horizon, you
call up to me asking
if I'd join you,
but with hands
suddenly gripping
tight I tell you
that I'm too scared of
heights, too scared
to let go of this railing,
jump down to you;
what I want is nothing more.

you laugh
and the sky blushes
as a rose fading into
smoldering orange.
a sprinkling of stars
within it and
the moon, dripping
honey, are
prophets of the night.
you spin to gaze at me

and the sunset is in your eyes,
brighter than
all the twinkling city lights
of paris pooled together;
with tottering fingers
I take your outstretched
hand, leap down
and together, we waltz
through the
sunset, city lights, stars.

mango summer sunset | | august poems (2023)Where stories live. Discover now