BY DANIELLE ROSE
Variations on Drawing Down the Moon
it is about drawing things in. i want
to be tree-roots / & lightning
striking an open field.
how first i open myself like the face
of the moon / so that i become
the face of the moon.
& into me flows the face of the moon.
goddess / descend into me
through me into the earth.
it is about remaining open like how
i want to be tree-roots / to hold
you both hopeful & ashamed
that i may be unfaithful / i imagine
that i am tree leaves & they
drink in the moonlight
& into me flows the hungry moon.
goddess / projection / demon
whatever just enter me now.
this is how you drink
divinity / & perhaps why
tides swell. in both there is dancing.
arms toward the sky / you drink god
then she seeps out again.
this must be how
we can bear to be so empty / so
we can be so full / so we can be tree-root
drawing ourselves into the moon.
these are the skills i never quite understood / the idea of celebration
like a trip to the dentist / i understand how out of place i am
awkward everything elbows & shoulders / awful at blowing out candles
& my wishes were just beads of sweat a sudden dampness
a stumble / because this was how i was taught to dance
to step on others’ toes / but i am not awaiting extradition
i am learning how to belong to where i am / because this is the way a sewing needle
becomes a sword / & how i stitch together myself a dance
Danielle Rose lives in Massachusetts with her partner and their two cats. She is the managing editor of Dovecote Magazine and used to be a boy.