the lunar conquered

the sky is gray lucite, inescapable,
smothering in its cold and filth, the rain
unclean, rank in puddles of bacteria
the morning frightens me

something must happen: the lunar conquered,
the story of the aztecs revealed, the screenplay
sold, the love returned, sun again ...

something must happen:
wounds or discovery
love or murder
this evening birthed by caeserean section

I can see the static clearing
the lunar conquered, the story of the aztecs
revealed, your hands bare in the dusk