pale petals softer than lips summon moisture from bare air clear globes form, grow, run together, reform. kindred spirits, flower and dew how they tenderly capture and hold the light meet for a fleeting caress and return to the earth. i’ve been calling to the moon since i first knew myself a woman unwilling to turn from its cold empty glare its heavy draw inspiring, for such a dark naked thing to be so luminous yet i am still learning to breathe to fill myself until i feel my womb flooded with the night sky: vast, black, enough gravity to pull me inside-out to the deep seething center of creation. surely within me lies the entire ribbon of time surging forth forever like a serpent from the true beginning: a singularity sucking and again swelling, overflowing inhale: sink to the source exhale: lap on the shores of the present. each moment rests tenuously in the body as if my form were the very teeth of time and awareness the forked tongue, guiding and savoring the breath.