Mystery unravels tonight,
strange a landscape-
since you left. The room is
a parched valley of sheets
as I lay naked, bathe
in the lunar light.
Sans the gravity
of your satellite. It orbits
without the ocean’s rage
of high tides luminating
passion, as I grope
within the walled corners
of the stark midnight.
Sadness falls
like rockets ebbing
the bed. Its trajectory
creating pockmarks
and craters
of a dormant volcano.
I tip-toed.
To our dreams-
pinnacled fortresses pierced
with shrapnels of regret.
Ripping pillows
until blood-tinged feathers
hover the vacuum,
shatter into belt
of asteroids and clods
of moondust.