Have you ever watched the moon rise on the ocean
on a bright summer night
when all the stars are out
and by their light alone, you see your shadow?
When the whole world pretends to sleep,
and the air is thick with waves,
and rhythm,
and the smell of salt and seaweed?
When the sand is cold beneath your feet,
and the breeze brings a shiver,
and you startle when you accidentally walk past the water line
into a different substance
you can’t see
but which warns you
you wandered into a no-man's-land between the worlds?
If you did, what did the moon whisper to you, my kindred lunatic?
It’d be awkward if it spoke to me alone.
