I See The Moon (And The Moon Sees Me)

"Don't look to the sky for help. There's nothing up there but the moon."

Yesterday, I cupped the moon between my hands.
I ate up its moonbeams,
                                  until I had my fill.

Tonight, the moon split wide open.
And the stars spilled out, streaking downwards,
                                  until they burned and scarred my waiting hands.

Some nights, it's a bright eyehole on a wall of darkness. If you close one eye and press the other against it, you can see right in.

But on others, like tonight, the darkness consumes it.

       Light devoured by wolves, by gray shapeshifting clouds.
      A hand that reaches around the back of your head, and closes tightly over your mouth.