Tuesday, December 17, 2013

New Moons

Depth Perception.


the favorite bulb is the one that shines on a fogged up mirror
the favorite song the one loud enough to escape

sun drips down, sticky and slick,
on to what you cannot wear to the pool,
on to what you cannot eat after 4pm,
moon washes over, tightening, suffocating,
like the covers you wrap around yourself,
like the folds you pinch and pull,
like everything that isn't the same on your face or on your hair or on your hand or in your head
and you can't,
you can't iron it out, you can't cut it out,

every day that the moon gets fuller and every day that the sun gets brighter is the day you realize the beauty in everything but yourself and
every day that you manage to hide behind or be less than or just not show up is another day you compare the beauty in everything including yourself and
that's the day you don't like the results

so how long until our favorite moon isn't full anymore?
how long until it's the one that doesn't even appear?

love always, laura elizabeth.

1 comment:

  1. The third stanza was poetic and flowed beautifully. Loved this.

    You're radical.

    P.S. I'm anonymous for the time being.