Poetry

Mooneater, I am my poem: 
fantasy of words 
traveling through fog. 
 
When light sneaks in, 
would you like to weep 
with me? 
 
Dear death, 
I am not ready to 
close my chapter. 
 
You are you 
but I am not me - 
taking a flight in dark. 
 
Disintegrating, 
I am collecting the spiderwebs 
to catch the moon.