Cyclical

When I told the moon
What you’d done before you’d left
She gave me my blood back
Then told me to remember my lineage
Of goddess warriors and artisans
Women before me fared much worse
And this blood that I carry is a gift, not a curse
All those nights you cursed the moon
For her half absence
Demanding she lay herself
full and bare but I knew
she never cared to please you
She’d wane and disappear
Unattentive to your petty whines and sneers
She was always full to me
Just hiding from your periphery
Just like her, so much of me you couldn’t see
You never understood my poetry
Your silence never gave way to depth
believe me when I say
you were the cruelest of all

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