By Claudia Shelley
Are you awake Moon?
Are you awake like me?
Like eyes squeezed open.
Like primitive colours of amygdala.
Can you hear me Moon?
Can you hear my silence?
Darkness holds my bones afloat.
The sun will scorch them bare.
We’ll drift through cloudless skies tonight.
We’ll share this fleeting paradise.
But only until dawn.