a national online publication of woodbury university

Mehnaz Sahibzada

Red Moon

On my evening walk, I am the girl
with two heads — a schizoid startled
by strangers. My heart leaps like a fish.

A boatman once told me, hate swims
down the spine and becomes a wish.
Women who elope to storm center,

grow beards and make mistakes.
I stroke my chin reflexively. The moon
drips swirls of consolations. Still my

mind is a monster of menstruations.
There is a cosmos inside of me that wants
to erupt. I picture my spleen expanding,

my kidneys shooting stars. In the lawn
outside my neighbor’s house, a rage of roses.
Their thorns like the fangs of a wolf.

Photo Credit: Staff
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