Full Moon

 
Sometimes a pearly
brightness outlines each 
dusty blade of the blinds, 
deep in the night, as though 
from a floodlight. Of course
it's only the moon, which 
cycles again from its first
slivered form to this  
fullness—even if you
remain asleep, it sieves
through darkness 
the way a feeling 
like happiness 
might touch
everything in its way;
the way a fever runs
its course and 
finally breaks.

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