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.