Swallowing The Moon

I thought of it
as swallowing the moon
when, paper-thin,
that wafer was placed upon
my extended tongue.

I was reminded
the moon is an arid place
when, going down,
it always stuck to the roof
of my mouth.

I accepted it as
one would a baby aspirin
that, dissolving,
bleached sins bone-white
with moonlight.

And yet I envied
the brightness of others
who, believing
they’d consumed the Son,
glowed eternally.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: