Poetry

The Lullaby Under an African Sky

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I want to gulp you, Moon,
in my chest like dehydrated hands mirror clear water.
Trickle down my throat
and burn into my fibers
like a lizard dried by the heat.
Disintegrate in my confinement like dirt crumbling in hollows I’ve dug.
Then bite deeply into my side
like a mango bursting juice,
dripping from every muscle.
And don’t be afraid.
Your touch is gentle.
So whisper
from my fingers and toes,
like the secret scent of roses’
flavors tasting twilight.
Pulsate my air.
Climb my rib cage
like cricket notes ladder the night.
Transform me in light
like your echo baptizes the dark.
I desire you, Moon,
in the sky
setting eternity in my soul.
The constant ache of a
tomorrow never swallowed
with dawn.

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