of the finally dawn
i named each night with you
like a great lost city, or a burning nebula
this one zion
some other star-bitten haven,
“ghost of jupiter”
we placed the tabs on our tongues
and dove for cat’s eye stones in the creek.
at three i smoked while
you hugged yourself good night.
once, we walked hand in hand
down the middle of the highway
like a dare to god, or a prayer:
please, come collect your earthchild.
when the sun threatened,
we laid still until
the moons swirled around us
our eyes glittery, hand-drawn jewels
before the gift of the finally dawn.
Mela Blust is a moonchild, and has always had an affinity for the darkness. Her poems have appeared in Isacoustic, Rust+Moth, Anti Heroin Chic, and more, and more are forthcoming in The Nassau Review, Rhythm & Bones Lit and The Bitter Oleander, among others.