our sky was enormously pregnant with moon-
almost here, the fat ghost color choked
the south end corners of the enlarged
earth, who was all mute to the luminous
collision shadowing tyranny above us,
she was all blind, in love with herself

no mouths fall open we sink with love
as moons to our selves and don’t see the dark
face and backside dust seas that will collide
with the ghost coat of our blue home,
like forbidden lovers rubbing luminous
bodies, splintering, enlarging them both.

no scream was heard in the larger rupture
of them, or in the hallway, where love hangs
in dust lidded frames beside her luminous
closed eyes, ominous, like moons behind
a veil of daylight or enormous ghosts
mulling the collision of our end

my heart thundered, but I signed the collusion
anyway. the dark was large in the hallway
I ghosted around it and out the window
where fog, the lovely vibrato of a full bloom,
smoldered under the weight of the moon.
oh, luminous valve, you have set the concrete

into the illuminated hairline of our time here,
I guess any collision can be the last.
our splintered life breaths become the moon’s
abled ecstasy- from our large body
to her full mouth. feed me love and
more than piss hot words of ghastly

Christ-red psalms or commandments from ghosts
that aren’t spinning in the luminous cinders
of heavens encountering heavens like we are. Love,
the solution isn’t in the sweaty collision
of creation’s horny glands enlarging
stars and moons to touch itself:

we are all a mask of ghosts. the collisions
we steal breath from, illumed fucks that enlarge us
the dead skin of the universe, our love the moon’s grief