mooncakes

We sit in the sun, ethereal like silver lightning bolts fizzing out on golden lakes.

The ocean does not forgive. It never has, not when waves grab our lungs and pull us under, or when tsunamis choke our hearts.

Sickly sweet,

Your words touch my prefrontal cortex

Like soft burning snow.

Your touch tastes sweeter

Than ice cream

On a humid sun-streaked day.

You,

Frost-borne by the north wind,

Oh-

Punctured the main artery, sunsets flowing down your ribcage, dull frantic thud-

I’ve done it again,

Left an empty hole in the middle of your chest

Maybe there was something there before

I hold my secrets in the shape of stars,

constellation-clustered candy like flaming balls of gas.

Sometimes they have five points.

Sometimes six.

Always, they burn

in that space inside your head

These are my bones-

Perfectly structured, pristine white.

Here, take my skull, that forever grinning phantom reminder,

And keep it in the gold chest that sits by your fireplace.