Myth of the Eclipse

Moonchild does faith in folks like breath.

Her mouth full of morals since the water broke

Back when once was now,

when she first formed from crystals.

Now she's learned Man's sway,

All heel-to-hell hinged

Nothin' but unmagic

in their veins.

Moonchild wonders

where all the wonder has gone.

Cause she be beauty - straight up.

Can't chase her. As she's been striding

through sadness these days.

These days, none can recall her glory,

Her beehive queendom, the lion in her lungs

or how the sky filled with loose change

the day Sunboy stormed in.

Spinning galaxies between tongue and teeth, he

had her girl-giggling, Simmered

her starblood into wombwater

Draped in orange robes,

they fell into each others rhythm.

All harps and hunger,

all ceremony and sacrifice.

His fire rose as he moaned,

"Girl, you gone be the death of me”.

But she - being a wild thing,

began to crescent and wane.

Lit up in smoke,

she explained as started to pack up and fade:

“This here ain’t your story, Boy.

this dark blue tune, this makeshift joy.

these praiseworthy hips and their turning,

this soul washing, home-seeking,

dust-dancing journey

in this busted drum; still-just-trying-to-make-music skin.

this is all mine. from the dawn of my beginning

until the dusk of my end.”