A Curious Moon

By L.L. Hannah

Virgo 𖤓 | Pisces ⏾ | Pisces ↑

after Aimee Nezhukumatathil

For me, the sun has always been easy to love,
as easy as it is to love how golden light radiates

from the back of a firefly, cool burn from within,
or the blue-glow delirium of millions

of lagoon dwelling protozoa. Unlike fireflies
and microscopic lightkeepers, my shine isn’t made

inside the body; there is no beam of bioluminescence
smoldering in these bones. Like a young sunflower

I must turn to face the sun, scorched
skin blistered, face seeding freckles.

Even on days when it is too bright, I refuse
to look away, gazing until it burns through my eyes,

until the only thing left to see is a black hole
surrounded by its shining ring. They say

you’ll lose sight, cloud your vision, you’ll never see
clearly again. Meanwhile, the lagoon feeds

itself with mangroves, and fireflies nestle
under leaves each night.

L.L. Hannah is an emerging writer and MFA candidate who writes about nature, gender, and complex trauma from an ecofeminist perspective, highlighting the importance of environmental stewardship and recognition of C-PTSD. Her poetry is available or forthcoming in Cosmic Daffodil Journal, Mouthful of Salt, Sardine Can Collective, and Aphrodisia Journal. You can probably find her in the forest, the garden, or on Instagram under @hannah.landslide.lusus.