You are the same sliver of the same moon,
Illuminating only five percent,
You waxing, him waning,
Intuition says the dark side comes soon

She says, "Wait twenty-nine-point-five more days,
They will hold hands, spinning in the night sky",
You brighten, he's waiting,
Nature says both bring me mensual craze.

Tip of the crescent,
Sharp as a dagger,
Slashes in my heart
A stream of dark blood.

My pain will lessen,
I'll stand, I'll stagger.
Math'matics is art,
Next he'll bring the flood.

My blood will take blame,
As if love did not
tear my chest open
Moon men are all same.