Lunar Defiance

Stealth of the night I am,

Compressed or elongated as the light sees fit.

I wouldn’t be removed from my shadow;

So I placed myself in it yet again.

No noise escapes our scuffling feet,

Nor influence from our existence.

My weighted breaths won’t interfere

With the precarious balance of the air,

Won’t infuse longing for the night

Into morning’s scintillating glare.

Now say hello to Luna,

Her crowning beauty

A cool halo.

She won’t confront us,

She won’t mind what we do;

Only that we love her

Above all else.

She attains

The height of vanity.

Notice these blades of hair,

Encompassing a face only unveiled

To those also defenseless

In the presence of exposure

(If they are not,

Then I retreat,

Molding myself to the curb,

Or standing en pointe,

Until our feet are left

To remain overlooked

On the mass’s promenade;

Obscurity is easily attained at this hour.)

Currently something is approaching-

A usual occurrence.

These are the final moments in which

Our eyes are not pointed at others’ feet,

Our mouths not thickly coated

With the languor suspended

In morning dew,

And skin not shrouded

With incriminating light.

Let us stand squared

And grimly await the customary rifts

Brought to us by a remote aubade’s

Resplendent voice.

And if a steely beam of gold

Tries to uncover the scowl I wear,

It will only be met

With its reflection in my hair.

-Shaakya Vembar


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