Dear Moon–
I have stared
until the blue light of my screen
comes to me in dreams.
I scroll in my sleep.
Evaporating hours, pressure behind eyes,
these hands must be mine,
But why–
what curse have I crossed?
I am adrift,
swimming
In the life of the yoga sister
of my high-school
boyfriend’s girlfriend;
someone I will never know.
Why can’t I stop?
–Digital Addict
Dear Digital Addict–
You know that scar I have?
The one that circles my eye?
It was just a bug bite.
But I picked
it,
It
hurt and bled,
tried every tactic to protest,
But I picked it
and now it stays a scar.
There is a damning pleasure in pain, I know
but the hand that picks,
that scrolls,
Can also stop–
Just turn it off.
(At least,
make
that
blue light
yellow.
Maybe then you’ll have some rest.)
Love,
The Moon
***
Dear Moon–
Oh yes, how easy it was
to mock the ones with spreadsheets
and gym routines
So simple,
to name the cities
we would live in
alphabetically,
the Croatian capital for “Z”.
Now,
I would call it
a shuffle,
but there’s no dance
in my steps,
from day to next,
we wear ourselves old,
we spread ourselves
thin.
Am I doing it wrong?
Or
is this
all
there
is?
–Post-grad
Dear Post-grad–
A billion years passed
And I wondered
If I would ever be more
Than a rock.
Whole oceans bend for me.
I could not know
if
comets would crash
But I did not just
drift there
waiting.
The only facts:
you were
born
and you will
die,
“All there is,” my dear,
is left to you.
Love,
The Moon
Got a question for the Moon? Email editors@poetsreadingthenews.com. We’ll pass it along through poetic satellites.
The Moon is an astronomical body that orbits Earth, thought to have formed about 4.5 billion years ago. Her power is vast and mysterious. She lives approximately 238,855 miles away. Here, she channels her advice through Selene Ross.
