My heart is dreaming of a second moon–
but my poor brain is utterly awake.
I will not know that shining dream real soon.
It dwells now only in my inward ache.
Friends, it is often so. For spirit’s sake,
our organs generate a greater sky
than we have ever seen. But, oh, we take
no comfort there: we call it all a lie!
Logic indeed is easy to defy
at first: a helpless bitch, it takes our slap
with nothing more rebellious than a sigh.
But all its offered weakness is a trap.
In our defiance, it’s soon clear, we sinned–
and iron-sinewed logic has us pinned.