On driving to work too early and catching a full moon in spite of daybreak

At dawn I
glimpse her face, winking
behind the trees in quiet defiance
of morning, stealing kisses from the sun.
His already sweaty gaze is eager to consume her,
eyes wild with the rise: panting, pulsing pigments like
a feathered fowl in tantric flight. Still, in this hour when
he paints his garish color across the sky, she smiles. Her
complexion’s a reflection of his feverish intentions,
a blushing crimson orb erythemic
with desire. I turn a corner,
and enter the
sunrise.