Nothing More

Sometimes when the desert moon closes
Its one and giant eye
I fall into an image of myself
Upturned by something less than ethereal

A portion of my languid tone
Against the fallen sky-clouds
Is my only claim to fame tonight
A teardrop in a less than perfect world

I create myself indelible
Upon the echoes of my past
Where I, upturned, infallible
Am more than anything, less real

A shoulder left to cry upon
My only calling claim
Is nothing more than nothing more
Then Nothing More: my name