Have you ever walked outside at dusk and noticed all the colors in the sky? The way the moon just bleeds crimson bright; splashes of daylight prophesying hints of yellow like screaming oracles, and burnt orange autumns that cements itself inside the belly of the sky. The way that birds defy the darkness to find refuge in the path of light, soaring on the backs of indigo clouds or beige highlights swinging low like sweet chariots. Even the wind rejoices in the shadows of the moonlight bouncing off the concrete. As for me, I can’t take my eyes off the sky. I wish only to pull up a chair, dip my hands into a bowl of moon; sip it slow like a glass of Sauvignon on Saturday night when my resting has come to an end; let it fill my empty; turn my distress into dancing.