the sun scurries from the rim
of the far horizon, hurries
up to its important stage above all
things beaming.

it’s gonna have a helluva day
throwing shade at everyone
especially me, this moonchild
that sunshine passes thru.

the sun forgets everything
but its self-important run
to heights to glare down from
imperious, impervious, and naming.

I could look straight at it
but if I did, it would be quenched
in my knowing, darkling gaze,
my look that sees the backside

so I look away as it names me
wrong, other, afterthought
aside, and that old flame would
just as soon burn my ass.

but in just mere moments
when I lower my gaze, the sun
forgets I ever was, except maybe
to laugh and snicker at the moonchild

but the moon remembers
and so do I

the moon, soft, beautiful
receives me
knows my name

my true name