— shall become as —

            you put this pen
in my hand and you
take the pen from
            my hand. the night
before the full moon
 
            the moon seems
full. what is missing
is a dark hungry
            sickle, the sliver
of shadow eating
 
            us up inside. after
the mountains breathe
their mint-and-sorrow
            green against the long
summer sky, they burst
 
            into hot october
laughter, lighting
the horizon with citrus,
            rust, and blood. you
put this knife in my
           
            hand. we pull. we
meet as oceans come
together, heaving
            against and clinging
across our salt watery
 
            boundary. we approach
endlessly like two rails
of one track, tied
            in a parallel that
promises our eyes to
 
            merge, someplace far
off in the distance. you
put this feather in my
            palm. my fingers
close around flight.
Copyright Credit: Evie Shockley, “— shall become as — from a half-red sea, published by Carolina Wren Press. Copyright © 2006 by Evie Shockley. Reprinted by permission of Evie Shockley.
Source: a half-red sea (Carolina Wren Press, 2006)