Two Space Poems

Bloodbending:

The Moon,

pulling the blood

at high tide to my skin,

invites me to become

woman enough to touch

you

Squint your eyes at Jupiter,

its abundance becomes excess

Squint at silence

and you see cacophony

Words lose half their meaning

the second they’re spoken—

please don’t squint your eyes at me

The high tide blood

burns my face

while I try to remain

half as gentle as you

And I could watch the Moon,

queen of illusions, forever

and never need anything more

but I smell your skin

in my head,

your neck soft against

rough cotton collar

Like high-tide blood,

your warmth is sung

in quiet mantra, your pulse

haunts my head. I know

distant lunar vigilance

would never suffice:

woman enough to touch

you

Too much too red

too dizzy to act,

I drink up the tides instead—

attempts to be less intense

I’m powerless,

tell me anything at all

:milky_way:

Case Study in Space Anthropology

The secret

of your back,

unheard

even by yourself,

is whispered

to me. I know

there is no code

to break,

no slow-deciphered

hieroglyphs

I know it in my bones

when I see

the lost solar system,

moles

between your shoulders

cruelly contained

by soft curve of bone

poked through

flat expanse of skin,

a ripple in time

We both know

secrets

of the cosmos:

you in flesh,

I alone

You and I

are a black hole,

life-seeping skin

burning up

against my void

Pit in my stomach

as I stare

at your back—

you in flesh

and I alone