January 2012
1 post
I Held the Moon
I held the moon
like an infant in my arms,
cradled it close and suckling,
lips of sarsen and limbs of dust,
its face cold and glowing against my pulsing breast.
I closed my coat around us
to cloak our fervor,
ardently clutched its body to mine,
bruising my ribs
and leaving a wake of fine powder along our path.
I, flushed and keen,
peered down inside my collar
to study its rough fondling of...
