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.