Once, Once

Once, she said this hot sun

hit her head so hard, fired up

all the molecules inside of her,

all it did was make her think love.

Once, she wrote a poem about

this folded neatly

in an envelope she sealed

with her saliva for him, all

the time wishing it was a kiss.

Once, there was a kiss,

but also there was nothing.

Once, before everything was,

the sun conversed with the still

black moon, wondering what lonely

means, if life could exist

under such a pitch black night.

The sun said, I will pour

everything into you, so when I leave

this place you will not forget what

light feels like, you will not forget

my hot lava love.

And so there was a marriage,

With candles everywhere, stars really,

no minister or witness to clap or to cry,

the sun’s bright arms stretching, wrapping

itself around the dark moon, and

only the Earth, watching, waiting

for a kiss between the two.

Once, not too long after,

the moon feel in love with

the pull of the ocean.

Once, he got an envelope, opened wet

edges, read words, ate them up

like expensive oranges.

Once, love grew forth from a mouth

like a tree with too many leaves,

covered all things like a warm mother’s hand.