Moon Skin by Kimia Madani

Moon Skin

I have known what it is
to be made ugly, blackened
by the imprint of you —
erased, imprisoned, embalmed.

Like the moon serene and whole
from afar,
but on closer look skin made
imperfect by the scars of her

craters, her rocks.
I soak myself in her lit up gaze,
drink the night sky in,
gulp the stars . . . always

thirsty for
more.
The constellations spill like
bloodwine from my glass,

imperceptibly hovering
out of
reach.
Like you as you walk away,

watching the moon from the
corner of your eye as if she’ll chase
you.
(the way I never

did)
or maybe, just maybe
as if she’ll guide you
on your way

home.

by Kimia Madani

Twitter: @kaymadz

 

Editor’s Note: Most first person poetry is too internalized for a reader to relate to the meaning very easily. However, this poem uses unexpected imagery and inventive line breaks to convey a sense of knowledge and purpose.

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