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Song 2



Either I want to see it rain on the moon
or I want to make it rain on the moon,
and you really ought to know which it is
before you enter the dust of my bed where
the gravity is less than anywhere else on earth
and light is infinite but broken into brilliant specks
and spread across the greater infinity of void,
sings the mouth of the moth, kissing
the first flash it finds in the darkness.

All poems are written and copyrighted by Michael C. Rush.
None may be republished or repurposed without permission.