Dear Moon

I wish you were closer,

not that it would be good

for the tides, but that

the despair I render

in whispers might

reach you.

I know you keep watch

over all our dramas,

and have no need

to hear what I hold up,

this typical,

and in many ways

boring existential crisis.

From your seat far above,

those wounded in war

and earthquake take

the focus, rightly so.

None the less, I hold

out these, my meager ordeals

this cold dark night

and confess certain

vulnerabilities.

I wish you were just

a little bit closer.

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