For a moment

In the future

Earth will have a second moon

Some amongst us with attempt to grab it

Keep it for themselves

Or rather

Let it shine through them

I was as young as it mattered, and old as I needed to be, when I started to yearn to capture these people

Reading texts of history, learning different languages to discern how they speak light

Studying the movements of their bodies, how the wrinkles in their face formed as gills to radiate outward what they exist of.

I yearn to strip them of a human mask, the conversation, pitter-patter daily thing we wear

And instead adorn them in marble creations, carefully carved from calluses and splinters sprung in chips from my stencil

A crude thing, I think sometimes, to bang my hammer and stick together and hope my devotion brings about the archieture of my dreams

But I do it anyway because I am gravitated towards the second moon

It beckons me

Pulling me away from my bed at night when it appears behind blankets of stars

Telling me to search for it on the marrow

Navigating the murkiness of it all to find it

In the rare moonlight human

Whom tells stories of the future even in the past

With a bright, distant smile

How I hope I can get the expression just right

How I can capture in each sculpture how varied it can be

But same

Hundreds of hours on hundreds of projects

All to build a staircase

An ivory one

Not to dare say I can climb up

But to make the descent of the second moon

Much more inviting