eating the moon

ALMOST NOVEMBER. MISS YOU MOST IN THE DARK. WISH YOU WERE REAL.

after Gabrielle Calvocoressi

Almost November. Miss you most in winter.
Miss you most in the dark. Remember you
like the mouth remembers taste. Forget
you do not exist sometimes. Remember
you hot and bitter, burning my throat, black
coffee, no sugar. Late October. Need new bedsheets.
Want new notebooks. Want to lose myself
in your skin again. Want to keep you like a secret.
Want a storm to make me pure. Night again.
Rain comes to trouble  the earth. Want your breath
against my neck to mimic the wind.
I mistake the thunder for your voice.
When the heavens scream, I swear I can hear
my name echoing. Morning now, November opening her blue eye.
Want to walk into the sun with you.
Want to share a clementine. Forget
you never existed. Dreamt about you once
and now obsessed. Black hair, black textbook, black shirt.
Lying in your bed, helping me with my math homework.
Want to hold you close like a teddy bear.
When I think of you, I think of lightning.
Look outside, see the moon still hanging
in the dark tree of heaven, a white currant.
See the sun, a blood orange, sliced in half, light spilling like juice on the other side.
I think of eating the moon.
I think of eating you. Miss October
like a childhood friend. Miss you most at night. Wish you were real.
Almost winter. Already longing.