From Dear Sal
Jeremy Radin
Take this shaking moon
from my belly.
Cut away the vines.
Let it fall into the lake
& sink. There are flowers
in every
memory of you.
You smile
& it is a belt
of flowers, glowing
pink, silk & indigo.
It is a string
of wild lanterns.
You, an animal
of lanterns, lamps
in the particular dark. I pick
my geometry
out of the gloom,
dismayed
at its incompleteness.
Our reflections
in the lake,
an explosion
of shadows, all that
the moonlight
did to us. In my chest
it is still spinning.
Cut it
with your teeth,
brave woman. We can write
a word
on its surface
& eat the word
over & over
until we glow,
a pair of lanterns,
unsaying
the names
of night.
JEREMY RADIN is a poet and actor living in Los Angeles. His poems have appeared (or are forthcoming) in numerous journals including Pen Center’s The Rattling Wall, Union Station, Nailed, and FreezeRay, and his first book, Slow Dance with Sasquatch, is available from Write Bloody Publishing. You may have seen him on It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia or in a restaurant aggressively eating pancakes by himself. Follow him @germyradin.