The moon is in my veins tonight—
fizzing, restless,
all that cold light turning to fermentation
beneath my skin,
and I am drunk on it,
stumbling through my own body
like a girl who forgot
she was made of anything solid.
It bubbles up my throat,
this celestial effervescence,
cheap and sweet and going straight
to wherever I keep my wildness—
that place between my ribs
where I store all the howling
I'm too polite to let out in daylight.
My blood is champagne wishes,
dollar-store magic,
the kind that leaves you
giddy and aching at once,
spinning in your kitchen at 2 a.m.
because the moon said dance
and you're fool enough to listen.
I feel it crackling through my wrists,
lunar carbonation,
every pulse point alive with it—
this dizzy-making luminescence,
this borrowed shine
that makes me believe,
just for tonight,
that I am not earthbound,
that I am effervescent,
that I am spilling over,
that I am more than gravity
and grief and the daily diminishment
of being human—
I am moonshine and momentum,
cheap buzz and celestial,
drunk on light I'll never own,
spinning, spinning,
until the bottle's empty
and the morning
makes me
small again.
-Artwork created in Photoshop and additional image-painting programs
-Poetry written by me
-both copyright to ©Stacy Stephens