Distant Moondrops

For the grace of distant moondrops
I will not answer your call
Or pretend to see you
When you are near

I will only hunt Cyrus
Or Orion on large feather eclipses
That march through hushed memories
Of soiled and battered dreams

For the weather on distant moondrops
Is forever held in a permanent rain
Like the everlasting storm on Jupiter
My love goes on despite
The uneasy terrain of your maps and collecting
Inspiring tomes of sedentary tones

In favor of the dimensional graphs that never
Call us equal

I will only call you Cyrus to my Proteus
I will only call you love abated
And sit in the seat of memory
For the last touch of whimpering,
Distilled hallmarks of my affection
That knew too well it could not last,

But I protested holding your hand.
I could not see the distant moondrops
That you offered. Upon the seized capitals
And foaming desertion within starring eyes.