Say recovery is to believe in & be the one I am waiting for. Say I
leapfrog hop from one lunacy to the next, say I make moonfaces from
reflections of some light, the crag-wide shadows I cast& bend into
magic mirror filigree geometry &, as you know, I do howl.
Say by “some light,” I do mean “me.” I do mean
to confess that I have loved as dogma,
might loving show me how to love (say in the way a hopeful
mapmaker might drag his pencil into his footfall’s legend). Say
maybe I loved in the way of pathologic myth, say old loves
were vessel for fancy, maybe I loved like a clumsy bloom,
that's what I knew best to do.
Is there a people who does not revere the moon,
Is it sacrilege to say I am a moon? But draw near & imagine
I am a moon, always full. Imagine I do not wane. Imagine now
a two moon sky, imagine even three. Imagine I run out of gods
for namesakes, imagine even the minor gods are claimed.
Imagine what we'd do to the tides, our beams shot
through the foam, say even deep sea is bright.
antmen pimentel mendoza (he + she) is a writer based in Richmond, CA. He works and dreams alongside students at a university cultural center. Her poetry is published in Cosmonauts Avenue, Underblong, and Homology Lit. antmen is online as @antmenismagic. • Photo by Andres Serrano (@pochojoto)