summer golden and ill-adorned

i wanted to hide within myself so deeply

so that fortune could not find her hands

upon my neck. i don’t know how the moon 

always finds her courage to step outside

 on nights like these, with

small blasphemers howling out her name

from leaf to leaf, ignorant of aquinas. 

for all their faults, they seem more skilled at

accepting eternal recurrences of the same event

than i am. they always fall in love and

put up no resistance.