moonlight makes me difficult to love
i am all day sun
father birthed
not mother
my first words were his not mine
he named me a broken mirror
later i learned he used mama-shards
to carve rivers from infant wrist
that was a moonlit night
eclipse kind
i had a lover one night
he cremated me with kisses
in the morning i was ash
i put my love in broken cradles
on bending willow boughs
to watch it break its bones
i am guided by the love of grief
perhaps grief of love
i know the source of my moonlight
i light candles for mad men
ask ancestors for greatest good
still in love
i remember him/them on father’s day
with dead flowers grown in my gut
i pray for many fathers
men who made me what i am
planting seed in soul for gardens of grief
he maketh me to lie down my father
who art in heaven
i kiss memories in moonlight
dismiss them in day
otherwise i will laugh
like dead burying their dead
and who will hold my dirty hands
