WHEN THE MOON RAINS

The moon drips
cool burns
on our skin,

The wine
warms its way
within;

Sin
beneath the peach tree
not as sweet as it used to be.

Two ghosts kissing
in a
haunted glen,

Friend to friend
we’ve run past
the end;

Naked to naked’s
not quite right
for us.

Dreams and secrets
are open doors
to us

Yet, making love is
one rung
closer the moon;

Mating for life
one tone
closer the loon.