stuff the Moon Goddess is made of..

sap rising, boiling at the heart
honey breath, salty saffron-ny skin...
sticking your tongue out is almost
like taking out your heart. on you
Moon Goddess is planting her fingerprints
Sinking deeper, under the web of veins.

chocolate tongue shaving your wrist
so appallingly close to the skin
that your heartbeat changes.
you can count it as much as you want,
but once you have touched her
the heartbeat is also yours,
and of course you can expect the sap rising.

on the hammock of your eyelashes she
comes to sleep, resting dreamily all of
her moods on your forehead, the whole
universe comes pouring {down} heavily
{in your bed}
and you turn, swim, stretch,
trying all night to wake her.

In the day she has rusted your blood
and you can taste her in the autumnal apples. She is
warm, cool, medium rare
and full of wildness of plants and animals.
and once she had touched you/ not
long ago/ at breakfast.

Hair turned silver, touched
with her webbed fingers, and stars
she forgot in the corner of your lips. Riding
the waves laughing, she is just a queenly kid.
you know...

carving a daily haiku onto your skin, she
is a mystic carpenter, and able
 to whisper into your ear quietly secrets..
 to pry apart your chest, laying heavily
    on your main breathing..
saffron-ny