I’d never been outside at night to drink a sky of blueberry tea, and then I see the moon & take a toothless bite. From basement bed corners I’d fight, hiding & sleeping & lonely & safe & warm, so I’d never been outside at night. Now, first, from the front stoop, a comet kite eats stars and stars and stars and still, I see the moon & take another toothless bite. So hungry, I leave just a sliver of white and feed every memory of when I’d never been outside at night. Now, second, standing on the street in sparkling light, my sclera flash beams blurring every edge, but I see the moon & about to take another bite, I turn & cry to my own window, aglow with fright, “See that waning crescent? With a final invite? Like you, until now I’d never been outside at night, and seeing the moon, I’ll leave behind a bite.”
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