The red moon makes me moan
Groan like an ember
Throw me a bone
Shivering in the ashes
Like a thousand lashes
She is burning, turning
Like a lust driven God
Smoke gray moths, entranced
Dance before her pictographic face
Reflections in the smoking mirrors
Leave behind no trace
Fantastic feathers waving, playing
In the corners of my room
Tonight I’m wearing sequined masks
And, a dangerous perfume
This conflagration of a starless night
This moonlight bright
Makes me wonder
What are we doing?
Do you ask, on nights like this
The thoughts of the silent, scarlet moon?
Do you hear the voices of her soft, mother-purr
Her pale and polished, driftwood voices
Changing key as her phases change?
Do you hear her silken voices rage and range
With a luster made of ancient pearls
With the conch shell’s trumpet whirls
With songs of secret kisses
And, arias of hidden wishes?
Does she call your name?
Does she call your blood?
Does she ask you to recite your dreams?
Does she ask you what the music means?
Does she speak to you
She has seen on the other side?
Does she take you for a midnight ride?
Does she watch you?
Does she catch you
The way that she catches
The wandering tide?
Does she weave her webs into your soul
And, give you new-dream, moonbeam seeds?
Does she smooth your restless thoughts
The way she soothe the restless weeds?
Does she calm your wildest fears?
Does she magnify your tears?
Did you not know, the moon stands apart
And, the moon has neither a voice nor a heart?
Did the red moon come to make you moan?
Did she come to throw you off your throne?
Shiver in the ash
Like an ember groan
Did you not know you are really all alone?
You are standing on your own
Valeria Castellanos – July 2015