look in the mirror & face
the one you dismiss too
effortlessly. notice her
dismay & her longing to
adore and hold you
every crying night
that the moon hoped
to whisper to her
“i and the sky will
both comfort
your blues and
trace your pretty
truths, see even
hopes can deliver
soon. for now
my dear—my, my,
oh well just look
at you!”
madre luna | a poem by candlemusic













