Mystical Horizon

I have never seen the moon
cut the shape of a sideways glance
stare orange at the end of the day
but there she was calling to my deepest dreaming
where cats and birds dance and fly away from each other.

There she was
with the smell of smoke
on her dressing gown.

There she was,
a piece of ripe melon
in the mouth of my lover
just waiting for him to bite down
on all that musky juice
and swallow.

Once in a lifetime
we are given a gift like this
and we must call for angels to witness—
to join us –
to gasp and linger on the edge
of the unmade bed.

The blessed ones know the signs of leaving
when they see them and they travel
to the watery sky with their eyes open
and smile to know when grace is noticed
and heeded and followed.

I let myself break down here
like a widow alone for the first night of forever
and the memory of the night before the wedding.

It is here I will wait
for the wounds to heal
into scars and the shape of my radiance
to return to the mystical horizon.