On the New Jersey Turnpike,
Stuck in constellation traffic.
The moon whispered my name
As I stood peering over of our
Mother Earth’s edge.
I climbed the tallest tree, rotting
From the inside to reach her
I swung from her stars as
She showed me how to
Hold the tides in my hands.
I looked in her tired eyes,
As the smog from the city below hung like
Sweet nothings between us.
And she held me, within her broken craters
While we watched the world end.