the lacy curtains sheer and patterned
sometimes rippled outward on
a breath of the sky
through the open window
to the moon high in the branches
of a black leafless silhouette
against a black sky

the little hope of flesh had passed
our bed was quiet
my lover lay asleep
I left the bed
left the room through the curtained window
the curtain kissed my naked flesh once more
I climbed the leafless tree
and watched and watched the sky
until with bright and splashing tears
the moon began to cry.

Chris Lovette
March 2017