Even the moon loves her
she scoops her soup away
and never slurps,
braids her hair the way her mother
taught her. she wears
hiking boots
and 50's dresses,
sees the theatre every thursday
and sings gospel to the moon.
she wants to live off the land
or be a dancer.
she has branded cattle
and climbed a mountain in south africa.
she drinks tea in the morning and eats nutella
off her finger at midnight.
she blows a kiss to god every evening
but will never tell that boy
that when she sends postcards,
she sends her heart.
and never slurps,
braids her hair the way her mother
taught her. she wears
hiking boots
and 50's dresses,
sees the theatre every thursday
and sings gospel to the moon.
she wants to live off the land
or be a dancer.
she has branded cattle
and climbed a mountain in south africa.
she drinks tea in the morning and eats nutella
off her finger at midnight.
she blows a kiss to god every evening
but will never tell that boy
that when she sends postcards,
she sends her heart.
