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moons

we are all moons

and my sister is a volcano

blue

we are all blue

and my sister explodes red

and we’re still shuddering

as her meteorite screams through everyone’s atmosphere

and now that you’ve seen me alone

I will keep you from her as long as I can

so you don’t leap from this ledge

just to land straight in her arms

you are so much like me

but you don’t want to kiss a mirror

and she is something you will never understand

we are all moons

but I don’t want to rise

I want to stop being a metaphor

I want to stop being the wrong metaphor

I want to know that I could kill you if I wanted

she walks with that destruction and doesn’t even feel its weight

Even when she’s erupting

she has more magic than we’ve ever held

She can melt everything your skin tries to protect

but it hurts like longing

I can only give you a cold embrace,

they call me beautiful

but only in the dark

only because they know they can’t know me

I want to stop being the wrong metaphor

When I’m wounded

I want to bleed searing lava

not the soft glow of starlight,

no one ever writes about the sky being fierce

I am just

vast and

beautiful mystery

and I want to be

a volcano