Tuesday, June 1, 2021

the moon, again

(written 1 jun 2021, 2:39 am est.)

i see the moon today,
more than 20 years later,
with renewed eyes.

i am in my new home
(first night here, wouldn't you believe it),
not my parents' car,

and, of course, fittingly,
the moon is half,
not full.

it's a chilly night,
to tell you the truth.
and i haven't showered in a couple of days.

my skin itches and scars from
some autoimmune thing, they tell me.
and i'm pretty sure i smell.

but this moon in this inky sky.
it throws my whole rhythm askew.

i was trying to set up the new place.
cleaning, cleaning, cleaning, till
my hands were ugly.
and searching for tvs and sofas and calculating
dimensions.

but now all i can see is half the face.
challenging me
to stare right back.

your ivory halo will pull me apart.

the nonchalance with which you treat
your companionship with me this first night
in this empty, new, echoing place.
is devastating and perfect.
in half-face defiance to my right.
in silent, asleep breathing to my left.

you will always be my satellite,
and i will always burn
to make it so.

i look older today than i ever have before.