I Dreamed the Moon

by Julia Rios

I dreamed the moon
came down from the sky;
I dreamed she was dating an old friend of mine,
sharing a flat with 6 others,
shoestring budget,
kissing all the time to keep warm.

People always call her luminescent, but
the moonshine wears off
after parties at night;
there’s a point when all is darkness,
and chalky dust, and rocks.
The moon has really big pores,
and that mineral powder isn’t fooling anyone
settling into the craters like that;
she’s trying too hard
like her eyesore of a mother,
who always overdoes the bronzer.

I dreamed the moon
made water rise up everywhere
until the whole world drowned,
and I was glad
because at least this way
my friends knew in the end that
I was right about her.

I dreamed the moon
and I woke up alone:

Empty bed,
Empty sky,
Empty world devoid of tides…

I’m sorry.
I didn’t mean all those things
about the makeup,
or your mother,
or your adverse effect on the oceans.
I wish I could shine like that,
all soft and bright
so everyone felt pretty around me. 

Julia Rios is a graduate of Viable Paradise, and her poetry has appeared in Goblin Fruit, Everyday Weirdness, and New Myths. She is the Staff Interviewer for Stone Telling: The Magazine of Boundary-crossing Poetry, and host of the Outer Alliance Podcast (supporting and celebrating speculative fiction with QUILTBAG content). 

One Response to "I Dreamed the Moon"

  • Love the transition in emotions here, and I really love the end.

    1 Asakiyume said this (August 28, 2012 at 5:31 pm)