Even when erased,
Even when erased again,
It reappears like a crescent moon,
Grows beyond a half-moon,
Becomes a full moon.
Like a face
Drifting as a full moon,
People hang
The space of longing
In their hearts.
Love,
Even when one tries to forget,
Has a terrifying vegetative nature—
It reveals itself, it grows.
That is why tonight is a full moon.
