Howl

Don’t bother with the moon howl instead at love that weaves your breath with another’s, in the intimacy of oxygen only to take it back while you still need to breathe. Howl at the vampire of memory, who broods in the labyrinth of empty rooms and hedge mazes of remembered events. Howl at loneliness that fills the lungs and drapes itself heavily around the shoulders while memories pile up on your side of the bed.