Space Beneath the Moon
Color drips like coffee stains,
on my trembling hands,
All I are have lines to speak,
But you don’t understand.
Is there space for me, beneath the moon?
Let alone beneath the sun.
As I stand on earth, spinning round,
I feel the urge to run
Because the picture frame is crooked
And I’m already kinda bent,
So I’ll paint myself in an empty sky,
Until I’m the milky way.
Everything I know is a speck within my sight.
I feel something burning up inside,
like shooting stars at night.
There isn’t space,
For me
For now.
Beneath the moon.
A young changeling child who was given to his mothers by his Fae father because they could not have children of their own. Daryl is a happy young man, with an artistic streak and a lot of energy.
