The moon rises

In Pisces

As retrograde Libra

Attempts to leave her

In pieces on the front porch

Of confessions through a screened door

Forgive me mother, father, brother, sister

For I have sinned against

Harvested orgasms

Organs

Silently screaming

At the incisions

Of hot and cold karmic seasons

Where gaslit fires blaze

With misguided blame

It’s not your fault

It’s not your fault

It’s all your fault

And yet

She lay like an open wound

Under your selfish anger

In an unconscious attempt

To fill the cavernous hole inside you

That nothing and no one

Can satisfy

Yet

Each year you come

To take warmth and

Hours of light

Replaced with the dying memory

Of life we’d so carefully tended

Tenderly buried

Behind your backwards, fragile thinking

Incapable of feeling

Anything but sorry

For yourself

In spite of you

Or perhaps because

She rises

We fall

He rises

We fall

And bite the bittersweet flesh of truth

To be set free

Into frigid

Win her

Hurt her

Winter

And await

The promise of eternal life~