i'll put the moon in a flask for you, dear

Audrey L. Reyes

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.