harvest moon

peaking from behind the holograms of foliage
with gross bulbous form
and an unnaturally pallid, blossom face

the moon glared down at me.
with warmth in its cheeks
and red in its heart

isn't it pretty?
isn't it mysteriously lovely?
isn't it frighteningly bizarre?

the harvest moon is not a solid sphere.
it is a hole.
a hole bored into the sky.
the sky is merely a canvas covering the true nature of the universe.

didn't you know the universe was orange?

-Pamplemousse