i see the moon as i have never seen the moon (introspection)

I:

you are now a half-shell
unpolished & melting quickly in the sheets of rain


II:
my grandmother is the color of night when she tells me to back away from the windowsill when it is storming
  'the lightning will take you'
i see now that truth can seem as disaster in a place of things unspoken, but without, each white arrow outlines another

a delicate struggle


III:
i can taste doubt in the sap of the earth of my body i am a forest of rights & wrongs


IV:
my grandmother and i will part ways soon by way of a full heart.

a moon or so after she is arranged in the belly of the earth, her great-granddaughter-born-of-her-son will climb from the rawness of evolution & sing to the ozone, some new squall mixed by centuries of rain she will be a child carried by lightning to the other side of the storm


and the earth will be wet with happiness.