softer sides of the sun
only scream to the moon to call
when I want my hands to grab the stars
she screams of escalades and favored notions
that tomorrows prosper in the grains of my wallet
when the wallet opens and dust falls
she groans and dissipates into the evening dusk
even nights where she breathes breathtakingly beautiful breaths
I sigh in the sight of the sun as it adrift into the norm
I am not exactly sure what a norm is but
I do understand the taste of coffee when the bitter dismay
embraces my lips
tomorrow is coming and I find it today
for I have awaited a time where evenings can still shine
and the moon can still blur
