I do it wrong
so wrong, so I do
it so wrong some more
draw with
a celestial etchosketch
shake, click, clear
the screen, start again
remember that time
in ocracoke, long after the
sun and last ferry were gone
off season, on the shore
darkness romanced itself
and we were left to see the stars
dark leveled
trees and seagrass
dunes, but the
constant melt of the waves
washed invisible sand
full, fat moon
sidles up and over me
stirring my brain
my eyelids like
cheap, white roll up shades
a bandaid stuck on a summer sun
mom telling me to nap
pretending a dark
that even my closed eyes
can clearly see
isn't there
drawn
drawn, by the moon
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