Paper moon, on your silver thread
a pallid counterfeit of your skybound sibling
Within reach you hang; within my grasp
I can hold you, mold you, touch your cratered face
make you my own.
any color I wish, you are
steadfast, unlike your ephemeral ancestor
an instant of stunning beauty, fleeting
and then gone forever.
I create you
every dream I have, each passing whim
all that is tedious and drear
to your corporeal cousin.
For while his riches may be broader
outside they remain
so much dimmer
so much farther
out of reach.