The Moon It Follows Me


The moon it follows me.

Peeking over clustered roofs,

Through branches and quivering leaves.

I saw it in my window last night, I swear !

It’s bald face staring down at me.

I ran down to the ocean

To beg the sea to take me away,

But there it was,

Its brilliance in light,

Scattered all around me.

I’ve been to the moon before (and unexpectedly stayed awhile).

Moon air filled my lungs,

Silver dust coated my skin.

Its scent soaked into my hair.

Of gunpowder, did you know?

I placed my two hands on his bald face to feel what makes him whole.

I laid my wrists across cratered scars so he may feel the beat of a pulse.

I let my tears fall onto chalk skin so he too could learn the texture of water.

He gave my pulsing blood a tide and presented a magnificent earthrise.

And now I cannot unsee the most beautiful sight my eyes have ever seen.

One day I happened upon his farther side,

The side you cannot see.

It is darker and colder than you could ever imagine a place to be.

My footprints on the moon, now forever far from me.

I left the moon, and still — the moon it follows me.

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