Ryan Archer Poet Free verse

Moonlight in a Blender

I poured moonlight                   
into a blender                  
                   
because I wanted to know                   
what beauty tasted like                  
after it had been broken down.                  

I pressed the button.                  
                   
The night screamed                   
through twelve stainless-steel teeth.                  
                   
Stars struck the glass                   
like loose gravel.                  
                   
The moon folded in on itself,                   
soft and pale,                  
                   
until there was nothing left        
but silver-red pulp.                  
                   
I could not swallow                  
because it was thick.                  
                   
It clung to the roof of my mouth                   

like a memory                  

that had forgotten how to leave.                  
                   
I coughed up constellations.                  
They landed in the sink still blinking.                  
                   
The instructions said to add water,                  
                   
but I had already used all of mine                  
just                  
                  
trying to cry right.                  
                   
So I added grief instead.      
A handful of names.                  
                
Two cups of silence.                 
One photograph      
    
with the faces scratched out.                  
                   
Blend until smooth.    
It never became smooth.                  
                   
There were bones in it.      
Tiny ones.                  
                   
Soft enough to chew,                   
    
but still shaped like every version of me      
I thought I had digested.                  
                
So I drank it anyway.                   
    
Some things are easier to survive    
when you make them part of your body.                  
    
But some things     
are not.                  
                   
By morning,                    
the moon was gone.                  
                   
The blender was full of teeth.                  
                   
And something inside my stomach                   
was still growing.                  
    
I was not hungry.    
    
So why    
was it?

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