Full Moon and Postcards

I kissed the full moon, left to determine the outcome of this postcard romance.

I'm left wondering - would it make an acute difference, the minute disturbance against this that has caused my earth to turn?

I could make your waves dance,

and the stars would shoot amorous-pathetic love through your heart

and make you feel pearl-white under pressure -

of all this beauty that is created.

The tide in my moon is overtaking the brittle pieces of myself,

washing over me, oh, the bits of dust and coffee-stained cups' sadness,

the empty papers left blank for your pictures to be drawn.

I'll kiss you on twilight, and hope for your sunrise.