full moon in eight hours

I search for it
just as you do
forgetting about love
on Sunday
cooking shrimps
and Greek potatoes
so the sunshine
stays away.
Fine by me.
Go to Old Folks home
and play Greek music
they dance for Pappou
so I don’t cry.
I even give it a whirl
bring in the new year
with some fake cheer.
Give it time.
I want you.
You have nothing to do
with soy sauce
and the temperature
of my oven.
I keep listening.
Never understand
why we argue over the spoons
and my drinking.
Just move by me
like a wicked wind.
I will lay with my books
and make love
to your poems.
I will go days
without a word
embrace the silence
and make any meal
your heart desires.
We can eat over jazz
and swing back time
you would get why
I burn candles
and days I don’t.
You would get
why I love cemeteries
and haunted rainy playlists.
It is perfect to soak
in no Vitamin D.
Pass the pills
ingest the sunshine
echo the emptiness
the humidity of
the cold freezing rain.
Warm my legs with yours
warm my hands with yours
and numb my pain
with the edge
of your touch.
The moon has no
only equations.