hunting you, a thousand moons


the froth of a jet plane draws a new horizon across the sky, and
i feel here, where my fingers rest on your chest, that this moment is another world
so i count one,
one thousand two one thousand three one thousand four
this yellow hole drills through the sky,
drinks in the sky
the same way i could drink in the cream of the moon
this yellow
the way i could drink in this yellow


but first the moon began as a rose,
bloomed in the sky as sudden
as the snow chills my bones
the moon stole the sky, swollen
and hid everything behind tree branches


these are words i can’t help but love:
cream, consume, thrive, divine, pride


i run empty streets to the cemetery,
scramble across graves to reach this hilltop,
crust my knees in ice to reach the sky
crust my eyes in crystals to see this dusty blue
this Christmas-window moon
to another world.


i laugh without reason


you tell me you’ve lost the horizon
you’ve lost the moon
and so you go on a scavenger hunt


look closer to the way your eyes
filter the moon through cheese cloth,
construct halos from all the dreams you’ve misplaced
all the evolutions you’ve doubted
the evolution of this love


i tell you this loss
is only time
is only surreality
every moment is a different moon
and tonight i have already seen one,
one thousand five one thousand six one thousand seven


from this stone i sit
i wonder if we are watching the same moon,
this fading-white, shrinking void
i wonder if we are hunting the same moons
i wonder if we are hunting
i wonder if we are hunting
the same love

By Emma Fuchs