Blues Hunger

And the blue moon, 
with a little quiver, 
shook herself from
the rafter sky 
and fell asleep
in my third eye
after drinking all night, 
waking up with a hangover
that felt like
the grand canyon
trying to squeeze
its insides
into her head.

Dine with me and
eyes open wide and waking,
breathing all
the way down
to the toes
and through
the molten earth.
Devil dances in front of us
and tonight
was an evening
to enchant the blues
for a time
with hunger and delight.

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