i looked down and my shadow lightened
the moonrise glowed lavender and sage,
saturating the trail like smoke
where stars fell over bodies
they shimmered, dripping under skin
in iridescent ribbons.
we rest at the peak, searching blank clouds
like a seed in winter,
wondering milky-eyed at a coffin's lid
i feel the dampness
the give of my walls
until the earthworms find me.
i look at my hands.
they're here, on the hill. in the meadow.
pathways bleed down the slopes around us.
connecting like a chain
we walk, circling your name in my mouth
tethered to lightless birds
my foot prints echo up the hill
grasses bend, then weave around the sound
wordlessly, i'm already in love
i look at the meadow in the sky:
a moon's halo opens like a doorway
now, your eyes are blue.
the light changes, it's growing under a wine glass
my shadow stretches to meadow's edge
the ground is night colors
it smells like lilac
the winds know
wiped away, but inside
under curling grasses
undulating, lyrical fingers
which close you like a chapter,
bookmarked on a line of red.
a scene of you
the sound of leaves
a night-painted hill
submerged in stars
i bury the moon under soil
tapping the grave with metal trowel
now that we've had ***
the music ends
we're in the ground, too
searching for cloud-covered comets
absently, we wait...
holding hands under weighted dirt.
i know what birth feels like
an almost-death
a bridge, skating a finger across
a sharp metal edge
plunged into earth.
now, i've seen an angel.
my other - it pushes up into me.
we're belonging.
a moon outlined in salt.
i sleep, holding the candle and a string.
Mar 1
Mar 1, 2026 at 12:42 AM UTC
i looked down and my shadow lightened
the moonrise glowed lavender and sage,
saturating the trail like smoke
where stars fell over bodies
they shimmered, dripping under skin
in iridescent ribbons.
we rest at the peak, searching blank clouds
like a seed in winter,
wondering milky-eyed at a coffin's lid
i feel the dampness
the give of my walls
until the earthworms find me.
i look at my hands.
they're here, on the hill. in the meadow.
pathways bleed down the slopes around us.
connecting like a chain
we walk, circling your name in my mouth
tethered to lightless birds
my foot prints echo up the hill
grasses bend, then weave around the sound
wordlessly, i'm already in love
i look at the meadow in the sky:
a moon's halo opens like a doorway
now, your eyes are blue.
the light changes, it's growing under a wine glass
my shadow stretches to meadow's edge
the ground is night colors
it smells like lilac
the winds know
wiped away, but inside
under curling grasses
undulating, lyrical fingers
which close you like a chapter,
bookmarked on a line of red.
a scene of you
the sound of leaves
a night-painted hill
submerged in stars
i bury the moon under soil
tapping the grave with metal trowel
now that we've had ***
the music ends
we're in the ground, too
searching for cloud-covered comets
absently, we wait...
holding hands under weighted dirt.
i know what birth feels like
an almost-death
a bridge, skating a finger across
a sharp metal edge
plunged into earth.
now, i've seen an angel.
my other - it pushes up into me.
we're belonging.
a moon outlined in salt.
i sleep, holding the candle and a string.
