hunger

the moon
is an
open-faced
sandwich
waiting
to be
dunked
in au jus

do it
take a bite
if you dare
if you can
find a large
enough cup
& tell us
how it
tastes

my moon
melted
like beeswax
like lip balm
licked from
a lover’s palm–
salty, sweet,
unsatisfying
but ohhh
like you
would not
believe

do not listen
to what they
tell you: moons
lie vigorously
to avoid
such fates

act fast
be decisive
soon moons
will be out
of season
& then where
will you be?

moonless,
that’s where