Ahead; anew moon, raises falsehood.

Her face a velum of smiles
That thrums across open water
Glistens as a moth-moon, beguiles.
“Snake charms” the earth under.

And had he not kneaded straw
With clay too see it build
A house of flesh a jackdaw!
Her groaning might have not trilled.

Because time doesn’t summon!
Us toward that conclusions end:
Quickly, enough; all are crest fallen.
Predawn, that suns godsend.

In puzzlement I’ll set you free
A sloth into your own brushwood-
Loins to climb that devils, tree.
Ahead; anew moon, raises falsehood.