The moon is a monster;
A clown without feature
White faced and bloated
As if it floated from the sewer
And as my gaze is dragged from my body
And ripped from my head
And my eyes roll back
With slack-jawed stupidity
I’m in the middle of the street
With my mouth hanging open
Waiting for a worm to drop into my throat
And feed my lonely fear
I turn my back and still it looms
Standing far too close
Threatening me with the horror
Of how minuscule I am.
But the moon is also a muse,
A soul beyond circumstance
Untethered and glowing
As if it’s always belonged
And as my gaze is lifted from my body
And orbits ‘round my heart
My lashes shimmer
With star-filled tears
I’m in the middle of the sea
With my arms stretched out
Waiting for a prayer to rise from my throat
Worthy enough to meet you where you are
And though my feet are still, still it shines
Across every border and every blind
Uniting the universe with the gravity
Of how miraculous we are.
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