m o o n m i l k ☽

a museum of your previous lifetimes

sunset sprouts

moss writing cursive on graveyard stones

wax dreaming in oil

like paper boats on black water, half a laughed you once loved, the exact sigh your mother made when she thought you were asleep.

the smell of smoke and guilt

drinking the howl like it's forgiveness

the clock wearing tiny party hats

rewriting my hunger

evening stretches longer, but the body remembers the hour it lost

wait for me.

releasing my feelings back into the wild

I spilt myself open nightly

carrying tomorrow somewhere we can not follow

a hemorrhage of light

pouring honey colored light across the yard

every hour you forgot to be careful with your brightness

the clouds grow quiet

eyes the color of earth after rain

Winter asks nothing loud, it only asks us to listen

the soft give of skin that once promised to hold everything together