Taste Water on the Moon

If I could I would place these woes on the window sill of my bathroom like crystals waiting to be bathed in a new moon Re-charge them until they do not sight me only something I cannot see They found water on the moon. But I do not remember asking for the taste of salt on my tongue the way you put it in my mouth With lack of forgiveness the way the sea does when you are upside down in it and it drains into your eyes until they never bleed Un-broken like thunder across the sky Do you remember how grey the sea was that day? Tell her Of the rebirth that pulled you underneath the foam until waves breathe easier with crushed bones into sand, into glass Till I can put your mouth to mine and not taste salt But the water that became your wine in the resurrected body Carved out of the sea that remained uncertain of its storm. They found water on the moon. Tell me she does not pull my wrath with her force I tilt my chin upwards Instead, hold a mirror of her up to me and blame me for the origin of this uncertainty.


Author's note: Megan McCorquodale is a writer living in the Southside of Glasgow. Megan or "M" has performed many times across Glasgow and Edinburgh. In 2018 her first poetry collection ‘What I Told Frank’ was published and she is currently working on a novel. M’s writing focuses on telling stories surrounding mental health, identity, relationships, growing up and living in central Scotland and a healthy dose of punk.

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