Swear not by the moon,
or green cheese, my love,
that these irreverent fallacies
we nurture tenderly
will live in myth,
for shadow moons within the water
still haunt our dreaming eyes.
The moons, lies, dreams,
reflections and impious roots
will blossom some day,
as certain in their unknown future lunacy as time,
needing not
our oaths, love-lies
or meanderings in proxy paradise.
© 2010 Charlotte Merrill Jensen
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