Lady Moon

I am, I am, and I have come.

Again, ninety thousand horses pulling the weight of my tyrant.

I am asleep on the bed, kilometres from shore

when Moses collapses the sea on my head-

I am, I am, and I need not pretend.

Several horizontal slices scar the thighs to the bend,

and mark what is mine- what is not?

You hail me ‘Lady Moon’ and plant me kisses like gunshots

though, surely, I’ve more good than damage done,

and I am- I AM- only not in this world.

I am, I am, and I have come again.

Eighteen million slaves lifting the weight of my gall;

I am not yet excavated from land

when Atlas shatters his shin bones and shoves the sky in my hands.

I am, I am, and I strike the rod.

No one is of the stars but I;

and pretend not to hear his voice raise above the wind,

and see two moons float side by side.

All things are of the sea but I;

and sat upon the beach at night and pretend to swim,

swim in, swim out, him sat beside.