I asked the moon,
the nicotine infested moon,
why it is so constant?
why it is so wild in it’s omnipresence?
It never answered back, just hid between two curling leaves.
I stood upon the loneliness and tried to fly like an untamed albatross,
but the crooked smile stopped me…the silver juices went along the veins.
When the eyes were closed and the mind was flapping in destruction,
this moon helped me to locate my memories,
the old days.
Though I know that this future will become old one day and this present will become ancient,
but this moon will always be there with it’s brown teeth to rescue one more suicide,
to cast one more yearning through the heart of a knives stricken anomaly.

…………………………………………………………….

Photograph: Jay Yerex.

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