Reaching up, I can pluck the wafer moon
straight out of the sky
fold it in half and put it in my pocket
next to a secret I’ve whispered to a piece of paper
that is already too full of scribbles,
some inadequacies, and a little regret.
What else do I give away
that the world has not already demanded
Of more than three decades
I am nothing but repetition.
The repetition of more than three decades
that this world has already taken
that sometimes was given away
Some inadequacies, and a little regret
of scribbles and secrets invisible on paper
unfolded along with the moon
which you may reach out for now with so much yearning
trying to shield yourself from darkness,
keeping close a pale light.
#finalpoem from Amy Ly
