Outside lunar base,

Amar Shah · Outside lunar base

I carry to the sacred stars
my crushing hollow grief
that never had I, even slight,
a chance at making you a friend.

All the choking tears,
all words, some elegant, some spewed
like chunks of under-ruminated salad,
no baring of my soul, not any of it, served
to bring you close to me.
Or if it did,

what hope had I to join
in long-awaited union of our skin,
when naked and desiring, took
I hold of denim, canvas, leather,
kevlar tails and padlocked fastens,

when long I had a woman seen,
felt I the thorax of a mighty bug:
ass and hip and breast
all jagged like a stone?

And frozen, helpless in the waste,
this foul creature on my neck,
I wondered if I'd make it back to base
to see the earth, the one I wished I'd never left,
see it rise and fill my sky again.