the moon lilting lullabies
under a canopy of black velvet
and stars,
holds my hand as i walk home;
the world is a beautiful place
full of tender and soft mercies
but also a dangerous place
full of monsters and hungry teeth—
but the moon always whispers
to me that i am beautiful in all
of my phases,
that i am powerful and bright
enough to blind my enemies
always;
she gives me strength when i don’t
feel strong—
the moon has always been
my mother for as long as i can
remember,
and now i am recalling her first lesson;
it is okay to make waves—
so don’t come to my ocean with
chaos and expect a summery kiss of
light and love,
you will instead receive a hurricane
that is willing to part you from your bones.