XVIII. The Moon

mare desiderii
by Andy Winter | July 25, 2020

the card starts with a poem waxing like a
mask of water shimmering with branches
bending into branes into bifurcation of dream
& lucidity. my body is a haze screaming
fear, a story weeping in the wound of night.

this card, a circle of mushrooms
in new bloom, a vein of glass trickling
down cheek. am i the teller or am i the
tale? what is mirror but dog-wolf-crayfish?

what is fullness but a phase of the moon?
what is howling but quenching? symphony
without solidarity? this poem seeks the threads
the weave the wander the yonder the catcher
the chaser of suits of slivers of surreal
of towers of the unswept terrain of trauma
of the unsaid power of premonition this is
how it reads how it listens to those asleep.

this poem is how we cleanse scars into cards
how we diffuse the body into every shuffle
how we write how we spread the self in words
how we orbit the decks against us.

Andy Winter (they/them) is a gay, non-binary witch/drag artist/poet in Singapore. They can often be found wearing lots of blue eyeshadow, feeding stray cats at 2 a.m., and hexing the cisheteropatriarchy. Their works have been published in Cartridge Lit, Cordite Poetry Review, Corvid Queen, and Freeze Ray Poetry.