I'll Take Moon Into My Mouth

Lamina of palest yellow-white

succulent light. Last nourishment,

holy wafer


of night. Nested

on my wanting tongue, moon

brings up my origin.


I'll give myself up, let moon

take me in the open field

of all my body.


I'll yield, naked.

Moon and I, entangled,

bare as winter trees.


I'll take moon into my mouth

and savor every edge. Wholeness

to sliver, all the flavor.


Until my mouth is full

of every aspect. This is

my communion, my only ritual.


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Copyright 2007 Susan M. Botich