Many have a nightly routine-

Complex to simple, an hour to a minute.

Cleansing, physically or mentally.

Diamond tears in bed,

To silver dousings in the bathtub.

Mine, however, raises concerns,

For I get intoxicated every evening.

The sky above, cloudless and blue

As the ocean’s twilight zone.

Beckoning me as an old friend

To take a long sip 

From such a beautiful indigo goblet.

Stars become my tequila shots,

And I toss them back with fervor,

One by one by one.

Each taste makes me lose myself more,

But I dare not stop.

Not until the lights congregate

And I swear I see dancing maidens and misters

Amongst the interstellar celestia.

Lunar excellence gets me wasted beyond recognition.

I sit amongst Gaea’s green garden,

Gandering at the majesty above

As I drink gluttonously.

No wonder moonshine is illegal-

Only something forbidden would taste so sweet.

Such a concoction of beauty and power

Cannot be savored with a set of human lips.

So I use my eyes

To soak up this midnight elixir.

My soul to taste.

Getting drunk off the beauty

Of what lies beyond normal sensation.