The moon
drops her
petticoats
and rises
bold.
We are
unclothed
flowers
in her flame.
Too long
did she wear
the clouds of
hidden shame.
The moon
stands bold in
the light of the
unencumbered
sun,
our hearts
untamed.
The moon
drops her
petticoats
and rises
bold.
We are
unclothed
flowers
in her flame.
Too long
did she wear
the clouds of
hidden shame.
The moon
stands bold in
the light of the
unencumbered
sun,
our hearts
untamed.