Under the cancer moon

I offer my love as a song:

an opaline crystal illuminating a cave,

a mirror catching the glint of your unspoken secrets,

a still pool reflecting your soul,

all dressed in the gossamer veil of

a gentle Cancer moon.

And if you are ready to receive it,

this is the quiet rhythm of love you hum:

a steady log covered in moss and wild flowers,

an oak tree sheltering birds, butterflies, and worms,

rooting its unending tenderness

in woodland soil.

But for now, I’ll wave to you in my dreams,

hoping one day you’ll see me,

as I see you.

And if that happens,

if ever your realm

grazes mine,

know that

I would cradle your baby

as my own.

You can pass me your phone

for safekeeping,

and I’ll gingerly tuck

both of ours

in a shared haversack,

hidden within my grandmother’s home.