Wild moon/spring


Photo by Ales Maze on Unsplash

A shift in barometric pressure

the edge of you

presses into my tongue

sacred sweetness

soft give of flesh

old cravings arise

cigarettes and sunshine

slow breaths while staring

at tender branches

budding incremental

the smell of damp earth

fertile heat covered

flushes skin pink

I catch my breath.

I spread your seeds

with gentle fingers

into the depths of my body.

I sow them into

the birdsong of my sentences

place them at

the threshold of my garden

cast them into

the wild tangle of my dreams

I kiss the dirt

water with desire

and wait

to see what grows.



Kelly M. Marshall

Freelance writer + author. Yogi. Trans and nonbinary. They/Them.