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The nights are very unclear here.
But if the moon is full, we know it.
We feel one thing one minute,
something else the next.

— Raymond Carver

to carve into the crux, this d i l e m m a of pairs:

a pendulum between anger & grief.
my two lovers with their two sad eyes watching me from across two rivers.
a nauseating hunger, the control that comes from starving.
a lunacy in scorpio, its list of demands:
release, transformation— holding on just to let go.
(the names that start with A are my favorite; i begin & end with you.)
dear silver moons & purple flowers, my final will & testament:

call out, come back to me,
or surrender me to the sun.