The Moon

20180206_143240 (1)
by Alex Hall

By Katrina Bates

He said that love will just find her.
No matter what the cost or how low the boat is sinking.
She says she is sinking deeper, however.
There are holes in places she can’t see.
Places she cannot reach.
So she drowns into a body of water full of secrets.
Bitten by fish, that grants her salvation.
She breathes in water, choking –
Half complete.
Craving deep – she finally seeks it out.
But she hasn’t found
It.
How does it feel?
The water is smooth along her skin.
Shriveling her fingertips in the driest way.
Flowing in volumes.
The ocean waves release her body into a heap
Of fear.
Where is she?
And how does it feel?
How has time changed since she realized that love lived on a mountain?
Far in the horizon – unattainable.
Forever more impossible to grab.
So, she stays in the water, praying to a God –
Who already weeps at her feet,
And carries her with his fingertips bleeding
From praise – she looks farther.
She touches longer.
She feels more.
Love her, or him, or they,
And maybe the mountain you’ve breached for yourself will tumble down.
An earthquake built of warmth, intimacy, and misdeed.
And you could mend the pebbles back together.
And pray with your hands together.
And you may be forgiven for a love that you sought out.
For a concept you were not given.
True love lost its way and tied you together for only seconds.
But then instead of the mountains and the ocean,
Your love became the moon.
A far away beauty.
Unreachable,
but nice to look at.

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