The chariest maid is prodigal enough, If she unmask her beauty to the moon:

Oh moon
You do your fair share of corrupting.
I come to you for all my darker purposes. I’ve stood
On a large rock, perched over the sea, face upturned
Hoping for you to help turn someone’s affection my way –
Growing the trickle of romance in my blood
To a river. Breathing in moon beams
Breathing out vapors
Moist helpful breath
To run forward through the world
And work romantic magic.
When I’ve pleaded to something,
It has always been to the moon. Bathed in mother-of-pearl light,
I feel holy and profane. I will confess desires –
Put a wedge into them, widening the edges
Til they rush through like rapids over rocks.
I will dig my toes into the sand and long and long.

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