Girls drop moon rocksdown the aisle we walk. We call them basalt girls,gabbro girls, norite girls. Our parents here no morethan the man on the moon. Rings around our fingers,Jupiter’s gossamer bands. We wear pale blue spacesuits,like two robin’s eggs …
accounts for horses on the moon. Drovesof lunar shires gallop across the dusty surface: equine, opaline, sibylline. Two-thousand poundsweightless, theoretical without atmosphere. The mane at the crest of each horse’s neckreveals how we’re taught to hold tightly to each others’ …
Tonight the moon lies on its back: a thin, white spine. I count each vertebra of the woman next to me in bed, map her lumbar curvature: each bone : a moon : a linear diagram down her back. In …