when all is still and kept

underneath the sleepy morning,

you pluck the moon from my belly

and place it back in the heavy-eyed dusk

i take the moon from the wide-eyed sky

and tuck it in beside you before rising

oh, Luna, my paperweight placeholder

until such a time i’m breathless beside you again

we count the moon’s craters

for breakfast and mark their locations

with cavernous longing, thinking:

how does she carry so much light in her body?

because sometimes, my body

is a vessel too small to hold in all this love

my mouth, too snug a cave

to harbor all the kisses you leave

before the sun begins to stir

in our morning cup, a sprinkle of space luster

to tide us until the next fill,

then in a flask, we empty

morning-breath kisses to save for later

only then does Luna remember

to nestle in my belly until the next pulling—

oh, this moon is tireless

___

Audrey L. Reyes (she/her) is a queer Filipino writer and former early childhood educator whose favorite workplace activity is raising hell. Her work appears or is forthcoming in QUINCE Magazine, NECTAR, Anti-Heroin Chic, and several other literary magazines. She is an Aquarius Sun/Capricorn Moon/Gemini Rising poet residing in Manila.