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