It’s Just a Phase

She’s born
of ebony, slightest
fingernail edge pinching
the dark. She sparks a low
hook, waxes forth, swollen by
invisible spill. When she’s had
her fill, she wanes, carving her
-self from fat balloon back to
golden smile, filing so much
eraser dust loose, stars for
miles. She’s a miracle; a
mystery, too. Is she
finished when
she’s full,
or new?


Written for Quickly, Day 21.

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2 Responses to It’s Just a Phase

  1. Kir Piccini says:

    the moon never sounded so feminine, sensual and lovely.

    loved every word from “back to golden smile” to “is she finished when she’s full or new?”
    I wanted to bask in her moonshine and yours.

  2. 🙂 Love the shape, which you are so expert at! This could be a metaphor for a mother as well – is she full when she’s full or new?

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