Hylocereus

I am not sure where things settle during the day.

My nighttime is lush and full of

green things that I can only say under shelter

of the moon

 

My nighttime lush and full of

nocturnal thoughts and talkative trees, fruits

of the moon.

Do I believe in love?

 

Nocturnal thoughts and talkative trees, fruits

taste different, way sweeter in the dark

Do I believe in love?

The Sun burns my mind all the way up.

 

Dear Moon, would you please stop wringing my mind before bed?

I am not sure where things settle during the day;

maybe in sewers and behind walls, hiding from the light

or in green things I can only say under shelter