Blood on the Moon
Lightning erupts, whitewashing midnight
sky. Blinded, the clouds retreat to re-gather
their nighted senses. In that moment, a world
is born. Celestial bodies caught in spotlight’s
beam mutate into conglomerations of each other.
White dwarf weighs in as initial counter-
balance to wormhole. Waves of absence stream
as residual traces of black hole. Sun
hits hard, a burst of yellow, before fading back
into the shadows of a moon dripping with electric
particles, a crimson covering, a refraction of Mars.
I Dream in Shadows
that threaten to suffocate my mind
as I stumble along pathways,
dripping the clinging gray of regrettable
blindness, thankful
for vacillating weight
and consumptive lack of vision.
Leaves Like Gold Glitter
cover this forested floor.
For a moment, I am Dorothy
flying with fictional monkeys.
My footsteps shimmer. A strange
song about bleeding and home
lands on my shoulders—
a memory of another
lifetime. Too heavy,
my buttresses buckle, become liquid.
I believe I am melting
as hope crumbles beneath me.
Wild has always been my namesake,
home, nothing more than a dream.
The Sky is a Snail
after Perpetual Revival by Vladamir Kush
Without a shell, I wander,
stepping on pebbles that feel like mountains.
They pierce my fragile skin.
I am unprepared for this life. Two
tears escape from tiny eyes, all that was needed
to dissolve my will. Happily,
I wither away in the wind.