Photo by Alex Andrews on Pexels.com


If I swallowed the moon,

would my blood know the tides?

Would my cells swim

on waves of light?

Muscles could stretch and bend

the way kelp sways in filtered moonbeams

Bones emerging from shadows,

stark, silver pillars

Nerves branching into lunar roots


If I swallowed the moon,

light would bathe my heart

like a firefly caught in an eggshell

a crescent glowing yellow-green,

or a snow moon, shyly white

inside an indigo dome


If I swallowed the moon

Would my heart’s song

wax or wane?

Would I sing again?

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