trois.

are we still falling?

on the other side of the moon,
the crystal light drips off, marring its smooth
complexion with craters empty
as the day you set foot on that train and
chipped away a corner of our
lives

you found your way across the
disfigured surface and with stone arms
and a stone heart
hoisted yourself to face
the moon's round, luminescent facade

on the other side of the moon,
you were a fool.
you thought yourself worthy of its
golden sheen, stretched your arms to match
the expanse of the glittering stars,
as if you could clutch them in the palm of your hand and
never
------let
--------go.

you failed to see that the stars fell through
the empty void of your heart, dark
like the craters, empty - empty
and dark -
like the other side of the moon.

on the other side of the moon,
you found beauty in jewels made of
hollow plastic,
surrounded yourself with sparkly polish-and-peel,
licked the moon's surface as if to
match its power, found pleasure in Happiness Galore
the neon words blinking,
as you did,
to hide your sorry tears.

are we still falling
that you would hear the train's whistle and
forget that you had first found life
on the smoother side of the moon? with no
craters, no fake glowing sheen, just plain and simple and
beautiful.

are we still falling
that you would hear our voices and fixate a pebble
in your heart of stone, and with a trembling ringing voice
tell us that you are just fine,
just fine?

are we still falling
that you would stay on the other side of the moon
with the corners of our hearts in your hands, blindly reaching
for the stars, and
never
------come
----------back?