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.