Riotous

The moon was a heavy drop of milk

in a creamy dark sky

and I sparkled, breaking free

of my cube, gloriously,

in a riot of color.

Of course, it was dark

so the moon made everything

glow like silver -or dead skin.

–

But oh, how the dance unfolded

beneath my feet! And my heart was full

of night, as night should always be:

forgiving, warm, dark, and open.