Chasing the moon.
July, like Tuesday, I am lost. Like where am I searching for. And last Thursday there was a full moon. I ran after it. Until I felt like it was running to be close to me. Leash around my neck and I chased the moon. Tether between us- pull me into Friday. Barefooted, tripping over laces. Do you remember the first time you tied your shoes? How you screamed “Ate, I can tie my shoes.” Do you remember the frustration when your loops weren’t perfectly even? Like even then you knew what perfection looked like? My laces still always gray, underfoot. A full moon wanes too. Glow dimming and it’s fine. Goodnight, Moon. Dear, do you know now you can’t catch the moon. Sit. Feel the moon, find a blanket and listen to the moon’s glow. The june beetles still chirp. The mosquitos search too for warmth. Our owl says hello. Tether between us, pretty red string- say Goodnight, Moon. When you wake up, you’ll find clouds part, wet air dissipate, and Californian sun move in. Remember those mornings, Anak. Unwrapping your too-thick, childhood jacket, like mom was scared you’d catch a cold. Letting the sun warm the asphalt under your sneakers too. The moon too runs away, Anak. And the sun moves in. Do you remember the sun and the moon in the sky at once, calling across playground structure, “look, do you see?” like there’s something mystical about sky colliding– the peace of the co-existence. You know, the moon said “Good morning” today, gave it’s glow to the sun. This too will pass it said. This too.
Draft of drafts. Much to edit here. Oh and listen Kokoroko’s newest album.
With love always,
Brit
