last week the moon cracked open and was not an egg
and was not a womb and was not bleeding or blushing or
burning just red or maybe she was all of these things or maybe just
one or two of these things or maybe we just saw her red and she wasn’t
actually red but it’s nice to see constant, heavy things crying.
nice to see we’re not i’m not the only thing that gets confused
about colors and turns the wrong one for a little while or
not a wrong one just different. or not different just just.
i spent all of last week crying. the week before that
everyone was in love and i was very nice to talk to very
nice to talk to very nice but on thursday on state street
lorde said “you’re a little much for me” and i had to run
up the escalator in walgreens and try not to throw up in their
bathroom. but, like, who hasn’t thrown up in a state street bathroom.
or an east washington bathroom. or an east liberty bathroom.
the moon has seen me throw up everywhere. the moon holds
my hair back. the moon distracts the uber driver and doesn’t
get mad at the “throw up in the back of an uber” fee. maybe
the moon got a bit fed up with me so that’s why the moon
turned red like my mother does when she gets a bit fed
up with me. maybe that’s why i dreamt about E the night
the moon decided to get big. maybe that’s why i spent all last
week in earlier ones. replaying every lonely swell. repeating
every spiralled sad. maybe the moon said “you’ve been
crawling to the edge of your bed, looking out of your window,
talking to me every midnight about the same soft things
for years. and i am here but very far away. and you only
learn when you have no other choice but to. so bleed, girl,
let’s bleed. and tomorrow we’ll rise, cratered and
imperfect, but we’ll try again tomorrow.”
Kyndall Flowers lives in Ann Arbor, Michigan. She'll be starting at Howard University in the Fall. During her gap year, she’s working with the Knight-Wallace Journalism Fellowship of the University of Michigan; the Neutral Zone, Ann Arbor's teen center, as a literary arts intern; and The Hosting, a gallery and performance space. She is a two-time winner of the Ann Arbor Poetry Slam.