loosen up your silver hands
and raise them carefully to the sky, topaz blue
close them around that little moon
and bury your claws into the
dislodge it gently from its pocket in the
slicked velvet of the night...
crush the moon in your fingers, my dear
for i don’t want the passage of time
to stiffen your silver cheeks
or throttle the ichor that
shoots through your veins;
and let us not be reminded
by that watery moon.