adrenaline pets

the moon through tears
looks like a multiplication problem
of many magnified and kaleidoscopic slivers

the moon through tears
beams down more rays than it otherwise would;
there is a bridge of light from the sidewalk
to the telephone wire, holding up the moon,
as light as a pigeon
despite my grief.

i speak a tender and wobbling invocation underneath her
and everything that hears me is transpersonal, radiant,
and shapeshifting.
these translucent gems of nature move mountains
all the time in reply, and spurn appearances

i am a ghost, or an ocean.
i do not own the trash i am filled with
i cannot leash the leopard seals or the anglerfish
and i cannot direct my molecules
without the help of a sliver of reflected silver,
full of its own holes
and its own rabbits

my pockets are lined with these holes, these soft pets
of adrenaline, and these secrets
this is infinity
this is darkness or emptiness
this is more than a glass of water,
or mercy for moths
this almost feels like home

the red sea

as the dusty ocean of the desert
parts its hair for me,
i collapse into the red heat center
of this single moment with you.

everything is buzzing with
the soft electrocution of awareness
and little grape stars—
epileptic orbs of cheap eyeshadow—
singe my sight

yes, there are many places where i do not belong,
but for you, and the sky,
and a baptism of chemicals,
i will forget.

the moon and the other delicate details
that glow in the midday sky
are so gentle and vague
and for this, i am afraid to fix my sight,
for fear of losing this sacred
angle of refraction

the crystal balls of my eyes
paint the horizon in uncertain blush,
gazing at our corner of the world
as if it were found footage from
a haunted house
while the moon and its vague daughters,
its carpet of stars, go on granting
their time-stretched wishes to all those
who wait, never and forever

all i can be sure of is that
in daylight, we see their ghosts
in memory, we become them
and in future tense, ghosts see us;
i know that they scrapbook for us
and cherish us with
transparent eyes burning blue

Mila Sherman