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a cappella moonshine
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little bird
half a moon waning
to end the month
i am thinking about sleep
and longing for the curve
of your spine as it arches
in the lunar glow
i sing off key
in the slanted melody
i am thinking lust
and living desire
but hoping for
a moment
there is a song of six pence
nickels and dimes in
the harmony of your thighs
i am too much light
at night
in front
of the computer
i don't tell the stories
or the poetry of your kiss
as often as i should
i don't whisper lullaby
in your harmony
it's time for gin and tonic
and the back woods distillery
that spins copper tubes
like a pigs tail
like yippee yi ki yea
and the squirt of lime
