I have felt no one since I loved you
any sensation
percolates my membrane like juice through a honeycomb
our final moments buoy in the bluebell’s cup –
then I forgot to bite the full moon,
Luna, your mistress for this sixteen hour journey
call her Luna, tell if her craters are similar to my breasts.

I sleep I sleep I sleep
but when I awake I will be forever aroused.
It was that ambivalent phone call, “I miss you and I will
hate you for several seconds if you don’t mind,”
that severed my nerve endings.

Piercing my ear the next week
there was the thought, a novel philosophy, just a tingle
that I was carving out a part of me that still
loved

you. I have felt nothing since, I have
been a statuette like Miss Liberty in the pond:
said she stands just like me, well, what if I got my bow
what if I shot an arrow through
every piece of astronomy you find more worth in than me.

Miss Luna, the Estrellas, even your sol
can feel
me break them but I will not feel any of that from you.