Luna

Luna

I remember a night, awake

in the middle of a string of pearly dreams:

A deer stood at the foot of my bed

Her eyes were liquid white

and her mouth, spoiled with red

She pulled at the layers of thin white sheets

“Follow me through the moonlight,”

her speckled form

weaving in and out of sight

I slipped out of my gown,

my skin was cellophane

Through the astral night,

we ran lucid like rain

Beneath a sky where stars are strung in lace,

hours held together by a set of invisible rings,

Bare underneath a cotton-cream moon,

she fed me a feast:

white cedar, tea rose, English yew

I ate hollyhock petals and picked the buds of roses

I watched her devour,

basil with licorice tips

We capered across the meadow;

covered ourselves in mint,

and at the bed of a shallow stream,

we slipped right in

The water was full of jewels;

we swam in its belly

and drank from its mouth

The cry of a woken wolf

hovered across the wind

she slid her fingers across my skin

In a cool pool of water,

the wind and the air and the wave

pulled in tight

The sky pressed against our playful thoughts

each moment began to lose its formative structure:

splitting into dancing particles,

twirling in and out of reach,

spinning out of shape

And when the strings broke loose,

the first glimpse of dawn swallowed the night,

sealed it away in a capsule, held together

by the ripe scent of twilight

I woke in the morning,

when snow-in-the-summers

sparkles with dew,

In my room, the air began to melt

my skin, covered in leaves of thistle and mint

my hair, damp and blue

The silver silhouette of the moon

peered its weary head into my window

I stretched my liquid limps,

covered in a thick film of

sea and star and sand,

and carefully pulled

a string of soft, white petals

out of my mouth