The moon, half of its whole covered in shadow, slowly dips down in the autumn night sky
Until it hits the houses below
The mouldy yellow glow falling faintly upon me
The perpetual outsider
As I stand amongst friends
Part of the circle, yes
Part of the thoughts, collected, definitely
Part of the group, never wholly.
The dark lonely reaches of taste and my mind spanning out into their own dark plane
Where only an intrepid traveler and the moon's glow might go.
But the traveler won't stay long.
When they are replenished of their needs they will retreat to the softer, lighter parts of my pysche
Forgetting all they saw and the way they felt whilst there.
The moon rolls along the roofs and to the floor.
Time continues. Laughter joins.
Forced ambivalence and apathy turn up for the show.
Love rears its ugly head
And throttles some of the passing emotions before slinking off to plot another foul deed
A husk remains.
But whilst hollow it starts to fill.
Slowly until there are just gaping holes left.
Whether these can be filled remains to be seen.
We unpack the original design and try to reconfigure to default settings.
It may just work.
The moon starting slowly, picks up speed and finally careens down the road
Crushing all in its path until it gets to the brow of a hill and falls off the World
Ready to repeat the performance the next night.
Only not as big as before. It lost some of itself in the journey.
It didn't wane. I stole some.
To help plug a hole.
I'll replace it and paint it white later...