moonskin

he dreams of sliced sunlight
skinny moons

and poppy-strewn nights.
junky sheen flickers

behind his eyelids like film.
selenic oceans crust his limbs

brittle as calligraphy.
score-lines slip into craters

lunarscapes of skin,
his veins so thin, needle-slim pen

painting signs on flesh
turned palimpsest.

Crista Ermiya

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