the egg moon is an air sign
in the morning after suspended-in-the-mystery
I feel how much the memory emptied me
days later I recruit pauses between grains of brown rice

hatch: a ship full of planes spears through the water for Korea
transformation, subconscious depths, we drink alcohol
it is deadly, or maybe not this time

explosions like shells of a clay pot bouncing off the wall
like an unstable neighbor twisting your locked doorknob
while you are inside naked, crack the earth
blood like hot water under the sand rises out of my computer

there is no earth in this pink moon
their eyes are dashed on a vertical horizon
not-knowing of the sky, escalation in the ocean
mine are here in the park
weighing the outcomes of the next spoonful of lunch
how do we hold our food in the prideful Libra moon