2020-03-31T01:34:54-07:00April 8th, 2013|Creativity|

The skin of the moon

Poetry is looking at the same old chair
only you find your eyes
have become microscopes
and what posed as wood for so long
is corn on the cob
and also the skin of the moon
which makes you wonder
about your husband
so you look at him too
and sure enough
there he stands
soft and foreign
how have you never noticed
the way his dimples open and shut
like they are telling their own story
you reach out
like you would a piece of fruit
with a curious and hungry touch.

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