FULL MOON ON TOP OF A CHAMPAGNE PALM'S TIP

a time to sing your most
neurotic song
this early morning
when birds
are not yet getting
restless on
the tree

( i thought you like a rock song,
something that rocks, not the one the cradles us
back to sleep,
but now i am getting it right,
you like the cliche of an existence
yes, we are still rocks,
correct me, you are still the same island
that i have sailed to
years ago. seventeen years ago.
when we said we felt no pain. no pain)