like the moon

Like the moon has had its turn
so now do I grow weary of these dream.
short of length and diameter perfect for cutting.

but its forbidden
while bitter seems to dominate the only way out is to fully push in.
and my shoulder hurts from pushing, so i run amuck of grand plans.
I'll sleep standing or something like that.

tucking into corner
i nest. and hopefully to that which is new.

I see you stew in the corner and think of what can be
but you don't see the layers are folded
yes, I am clear, but I still distort with glasses width.
'Tis not with desire that I convulse at every turn.
In fact I yearn for peace, but not just my own.
so CHKN that! Draga, sora.