The Moon Rises

the moon rises each night; aware &
cold-faced.
it watches as i move in slow rhythms

to the sound of the night.

i lay on the earth, as flat as i can -
digging my fingers into the earth.
my spine is straight & my

teeth, are crooked, out of place.

the moon lingers; debating, wondering
if i am like it:
sullen with a fair complexion & eyes

that turn from green to blue.

i have frizzy hair & mismatched shoes.
i am the moon but when i rise,
i rise quiet & unaware.