I still regret that
wasted night when
in my sleeping bag
with the stars as
bored witness
I gave up my ways
and suffered passively
next to his gorgeous
stillness. When the
sun’s light destroyed
the night I awoke
untouched and filled
with shame at the
thought that I’d missed
an arc of existence
that I might not now
ever reclaim.

Jennifer Moxley, “The Fountain”