Tonight, the moon is full enough
to expose every version of me.
Jupiter crowds the horizon,
bright as a friend in the front row,
calling me forward to
take up more space,
and grab part of the sky.
I’m done translating myself
and I’m done asking heaven
why I was made this way.
The answer has always been above me:
stars collapse into beginnings,
planets wander without apology,
the moon disappears piece by piece
and still returns whole.
Chestnut Cowboy 