Nick Fyhrie Nick Fyhrie

New Moon

Does the new moon know the depths of its craters,

the peaks of its crests,

the roundness of its roundness

without the sun to make it half, full, or

a crescent serpent

hissing through the night,

full of mystery

like lovers in candlelight

getting to know one another,

wanting to know the space between

the depths of their hearts

and the peaks of their chests?

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Nick Fyhrie Nick Fyhrie

Paradise

Paradise

perspiring tears of irony,

charred tears of sticky and hot

without a marshmallow and chocolate,

rubble instead of graham cracker.

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