The full moon fills my chest
until moonfluence pours from my eyes,
and leaches from my breasts.
Oozing with light waves,
my pilgrim gaze follows the incandescent trail
laid before me until I and the moonrise are one.
Our moon could be earth’s cast off mantle,
pulling on the tides,
and slowing moving mountains.
This is the ritual time
when the moon shares its blood-stained nights
and rice paper days with the sun.
This will change as our days become longer.
So, until she tires of earth and spins away,
my feet follow the moon.
Sam Burcher
.