Bug Junction: Four Poems

I cannot look you in the eye.
Segmented multitudes, reflect
no ego spreads through antennae
sensitive bristle foot pad hair.



                                                                                                               HUNTER'S MOON



Skin I, hair I, plates
turn against one another
white glutinous pivot.
Where do you touch me?




                                                                                                               BEAVER MOON



We meet, moments, hairs out,
align along my pelt.
Then we part. Velcro hairs tug
hooks under my skin, raise a bruise.




                                                                                                               WOLF MOON



sleep weaves melatonin waves
red blood, white blood, pulse, pulse
older insects hum a thousand
dark eyes in our dream.




                                                                                                               BUCK MOON


Click here to read: Bug Junction: "Hunter's Moon," "Beaver Moon," "Wolf Moon," and "Buck Moon." 

Barzakh Mag