CAN YOU LOVE THE SAME ON THE MOON?
you asked me to write you a poem. one where
it doesn’t hurt to read. you tell me too often i write
with grief as the main character. sadness and loss
as the supporting roles. you say my metaphor of love
as a gaping flesh wound is so unfair. we kiss. i write
you a poem. one where we end up together and
live out our forever on the moon. where there is
no fear, no grief, no oozing wound. where there is
a weightlessness. like how you hold my heart so it
doesn’t feel as heavy. like how a peach melts in
the sun and dribbles sickly sweet. i almost accept
this idea of love. almost move to the moon with you
and bounce around from crater to crater, knowing it
was never about the hurt; it was about the release.
until you leave. and my heart comes down with a
resounding thud and opens up, spilling black into
my chest. grief comes in and cleans the mess. i write
another poem. one where the moon doesn’t exist.
Hannah Fuller is a sophomore English (literature) and psychology major. When she’s not furiously scribbling away, she enjoys hiking and baking.