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The moon is so full and round I could pluck it from the air with my teeth.
The night is stretched across the frame of the sky like a canvas
the lights pricking through.
I am whole
in the moonlight
abandoned but whole, and full, and drenched with the perfumes of summer nights and rose-hush.
Once,
you fed me plums
and ran your hands over my sticky heart; you crushed me
with your lips and I used to curl my fingers
through your chain-linked hair,
imagining a hundred thousand different futures including you.
Now, alone,
I walk those paths myself
acid-dipped, and sky-tempered, storm-bathed and singing
through moon-filled teeth
testing each new path that has bloomed before me.