Near full, always perfect, tonight you glow brilliantly white
in the middle of your large red, pink, gray areola,
resting perfectly centered
in the cotton clouds of your breast.
Oh moon, soon to be full, patient, always waiting silently
for our upward glance.
Whether a happenstance glimpse of the sky,
or a purposeful nightly search, you sit,
unperturbed by the longings,
impressions, symbolism
placed on your celestial body.