Half Moon II, variation
I have a tendency to ignore
The caution yellow glow of half moon,
Instinctively peering around the corner of the arc
To see the cratered dark side gloom.
I see the whole even when the half is enough.
All the things you want to hide:
The wrinkles, the pimples,
The broccoli caught in your teeth,
The lint in your ears,
The flecks of flour in your hair,
The scars and asymmetric dents,
The weight of years that drags at flesh,
The weaknesses, the soft spots,
The moles, the blemishes,
Deep rueful regrets etched
Into a face that once
Had a chance to say yes,
The quirks and carelessnesses,
All the elisions and evasions.
I know I am strange but not unique.
There are others like me,
Overly critical and sometimes mean
Who quickly mark the unmentionable,
The not quite concealable things.
So I stash the few things I like
About myself over there in the
Gloaming of my moon’s vaults.
I’m hoping some freak, someone like me,
Might stumble upon them
When they’re rooting around in the night,
Trespassing, invading my privacy,
Sifting through all my faults.
I want to surprise her when it happens.
I want her to be the one
Who brings them into the light.