As you would embrace the moon
in stanzas swooning over craters,
I would brace it, construct props,
spackle over craggy ridges,
repair the patina.

You would decry my alterations
as villainous, ruinous, wasteful.
You would long for dust and cracks.
I would ruminate on my efforts,
call the moon a pearl,
ease into a proud drunk.

Fishgut Ambrose stylized-environments
fascinating game lore hired under heist-fists
bright splits, fruit trees, underscored potentials
leg-full spider nests demanded over cargo