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IF MOONS WERE UNCONQUERED PLANETS Brooke Thomas College of Charleston

I began to bleed last night and woke dotted draco, followed the constellation of my bones, saw the poison dripping from my jowls like nebulas. I was never warned of my fire breath or blood signifying an immortal wound. I can count the chocolate keloids along my belly. They number the months I revolved around naproxen. All planets have rings on this side of the solar system. Mother Nature is an astronaut. She wars with my stars, holds their breath another millennium while I shove my femininity into rings for the sake of pretending I am an unclaimed moon, for the sake of pretending I am not bearing the vacuum on my own.




Profile for Oakland Arts Review

Oakland Arts Review Volume 4  

Oakland Arts Review Volume 4