once in a blue moon

I have moments
when I pass by your window
that the arches remind me
of how you curled my back
around your forearm

and this isn't to say
that you leave
the same ache in my heart
as the way that writing you
love letters on a stranger's sheets
causes my thighs to be a little too
love-sick-heart-sore
the next morning

because I have given up
on feigning normalcy
when lying in bed
next to your soul

and sometimes,
when the sweat kaleidoscope
blurs your face together
and shines in just the right light

I can see optimism presented
in a flash-bang-in-the-pan
sparkle in irises pool blue
and so clouded over by
grey blue-moons

but baby,
I tire of astrological metaphors
that you scrawled with muddy eyes
looking back into in my black-hole pupils
because it has made me yearn to change
our predicted future