Luna

Luna is me,
Luna’s the white glint
Rolling over
The endless
Blackened sea.

It’s an equinox,
But also
A state of mind.

It’s a tranquil place
Where craterface
No longer
Is a derogatory expression.

Be a
Luna rock,
If you choose.

They’re light
And supple,
Free of
Weighted constraint.

My name is Eric, I’ve been writing seriously for about three years and have only recently gotten addicted to poetry (both writing and reading.). I’m the author of The Dioramist, a mid-twenties coming of age story about a writer who has lost faith in the defining on again/off again relationship of his life.  He struggles finding a balancing point for his passions, work, and love life.  I also have a debut poetry book coming out next week titled Strange Cars in the Night.