But the Moon is Vulnerable, by Rajani Radhakrishna

The Day After, by Edvard Munch (Norway). 1895.

But the Moon is Vulnerable

She casts her best shadows on naked skin, her unformed before 
patterning the afterward with stories from the empty dark, her

angst dissolving in the comfort of her own transience. But the 
moon is vulnerable in my bed. Let’s sit at the table, she says, 

this wine turns to viscous ebony at a touch, untethering stories 
too harsh for the afternoon sun. Remembering is a game of faded 

horizons and soft lips, slaughtering hearts on chequered silver 
and night. We hold love softly, in the palm of our regrets, gravity 

gyrating against the rising wind, breath still heaving through the 
twisted loop of infinity, dreams travelling to the seams of impossible 

want. The morning found her, my answers still trapped like stars 
behind her sleeping eyes. They say where she had lain alone, the 

air still smells of watered rosebuds, the blemished light still pools 
on the floor where it dripped slowly from her outstretched hand.  

Rajani Radhakrishnan

Rajani Radhakrishnan: "I am from Bangalore, India and post my work on thotpurge.wordpress.com. Some of my poems have recently appeared in online platforms such as The Lake, Quiet Letter, Visual Verse and Parentheses Journal."