RETROGRADE

There are places in the atmosphere
ground gold with laughter
burned pungent in the scent of absinthe left behind in your wake
this is how I see the stars
a hollow roam where once I laid my head upon your shoulder
in the cool amber eve of Ohio sweet grass gazing at Heaven bare and daring

How could gods exist so cast away from this bliss?
What power could they know beyond this sensation?
And where have you gone reflected beneath these lights
that once knew your name as mine?
How is it they continue to shine
in the cold winter veil of your absence?

~Zoe Moon