Worm Moon

Weird Poetry

I am the moon

When she is full

And when she is halved and quartered and shrouded in starry dark, and bleeding at the mouth.

I am Her

When she is busiest

Worming out the rot

In ribbons

Coiled into barely held breaths

And enigmatic exhaling.

I am Her

When she is full

And spilling light of pearl

Into worm tunnels

Of thawing hearts.

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👽❤

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*** The Worm Moon is tonight. Spend some time loving and forgiving yourself. ***