the moon don’t shine but’ll snag your light like a hot younger sibling.
stare down a grease-stained mirror & speak
lunar maria lunar maria lunar maria
‘til your tongue knots like a cherry stem.
name every pock in your riddled cheek
after a state of mind, use language long
lost or not yet
learned. shelled in fondant, you’re a frontier
unrealized but already claimed. oh, summer-melon flush!
you’ve mistaken it for flattery.
nothing is out of reach when you can’t feel
the ends of your body all silica & salts.
the moon slows & you, little linebacker, are always
too rough, won’t live
here long enough to explain