Moonlight, Edvard Munch
Li Po leans to kiss the Moon reflected in the River his Body is there where the boat left him drowning in longing Adrift he gazes up into the unreflected universe Every twenty-eight days the Moon in its fulness kisses him It's like that for years, adrift in Moon kisses, until tonight, when there's a sharp slap on Li's back, another almost gently on his cheek. "C'mon, man. Take a breath. You're fine, you didn't drown." (There is blinking, a sputter of River water, more blinking) "I got you out. It was a bad misunderstanding. There's a Moon, a River, but that's not you adrift. It's a Tree Branch." (Gurgling) "You should drink less. It's not poetic. It's pathetic, and you could really drown. Here, lean back, against this tree. You'll be fine." (Li leans back. He shivers, looks at the last, long kiss broken by swells as it crosses the water. He gazes. Up, past the Moon, into the unreflected universe.)