This is the story
of how I bleed.
But not with the moon.
Howling across the lunar cycle:
a universe
of salts
and stars
exploding like my wings;
my phantom limbs.
Goose flesh radiating from
his expanding hand on my
receding thigh.
I used to explore the cosmos,
yearning to caress
each curve of every mother,
and every atom that came before me,
and yet
now I pull back my palm
and he pulls out of me.
The Earth did not long
for our graceless hands.
Sorry is not enough
but I turn it over in my mind;
how I would turn it down
in my mouth, spitting out
each particle.
This is the atlas of a single syllable:
Sorry is not enough.
Rebecca Egan lives in Melbourne, Australia and is the Founder and Editor of Sanative Magazine. She has previously been published in Peeking Cat Poetry which makes her rather pleased, as she is quite fond of cats. Alongside felines, Rebecca’s interests include singing off key to Florence + the Machine and sipping on Chai Lattes.