Lauren Bolger, Illinois, USA
I wish I could be closer with (not to) the moon.
To reach it from inside me. To see, and feel, (not lost) but held
in its staggering, reciprocated gaze. I’d have to play up
our similarities. We share trace elements. Oxygen, magnesium.
You’re finite? Me too… But me, much more so than you.
Instead, I stand alone in this dark chamber and recall
how I’m bound to be six feet further away.
I allow myself to think too hard. Then, quickly,
forever—the Word becomes forever—the Feeling.
What is it about the moon? Like someone opens
a trap door every night, lets in the light. Light that
penetrates. Illuminates my quaking soul. Brings it
to the other side.
Shows it… What?
That which lives in the black space between stars?
The place I’ll be going when it’s my time?
All I can hope is to be bold enough
to bask in your glow. To hold you on my skin.
To take your borrowed light and with it, build a shadow.
By morning time, I’m gone. Nothing left.
My impression combed flat in the straw-like grass.
Lauren Bolger is editing her debut speculative fiction novel and writing poetry when she’s not managing a customer service department. She has a short story and poem in the indie anthology, Beyond the Levee and other Ghostly Tales, released in Sept. 2020. She is on Twitter as @renBolger.