Work Text:
When the lunar rays hit,
It feels like parasites crawling,
A few layers deep in skin,
Shifting into burning tectonic plates.
The Moon God’s shining eyes lay bare,
Every vulnerable thought,
Twists flesh and bone to suit,
Despair hooked into grey matter.
No hands will come to harm or sooth,
The subject of Rher’s gnashing gaze,
Walls cannot shield from his Light,
Rigour mortis will set in before he lets go.