Moon.

we learn of
celestial bodies in
science,

and i touch 
what is 
considered 

forbidden
knowledge about 
the stars;

the longing of
the supernova
to cover as 

much of
the blackness
as it can in

a moment 
of explosive 
intensity. write

me a song on
the blackboard
in health class 

comparing your 
nature to the
onslaught of

solar winds,
atmospheric
pressure on my

lungs, and
the force of
gravity you

inflict
upon the
bearer of flowers.

tug and pull
celestial seeds
floating in

its own beaker.
attack me.
force me to

answer and
make me 
want more.

ignore my
protest and eat
up the blank

space with
smeared 
fingerprints and

crude words
about my lust in
the dark

and how 
the night sky 
swallowed me 

whole.