Wishing Blue Like the River (Till the Moon Howls Back)

               For Thaddeus

The dirt that lingers
         beneath the polish
     that shines,
the teeth that grind
          beneath the smiles
      that hide
   is the blood that slips
                   and creeps
     beneath blushing masquerades--
like wishes made
         over that twice-crossed river
  where you told me
             and told me again,
     "bite your tongue,
            hold your breath,
                and never whisper
         those silent, breathless prayers."
So I'll tell it to you now.
   The first was for you.
   I said it till blue,
howling a distant moon
     bloodied and empty,
pleading a contested throne,
      vacant and powerless.
            But it was not
    the drooping mask
           with the weight
             of your heavy silence
    that so unnerved me.
It was the laugh,
               and grin
    when you so dutifully
             stepped back into character.
So I'll tell it to you now.
    The second was only
                  to never wish again.