Moon Song

the sky is not yet dark

                                      i open my eyes

                   and a hawk swallows

                                      the moon


i never really wanted

                   to touch you–


                   now there are shells

                                      covering my fingernails


   what i wanted was to lick

                                      the dust from your wings


i cough and a white moth

                   flies from my throat


its body floats

                   in the space left by moon

                   now there is river water

                                      running through my veins


the hawk is choking

                   blood and spit in feathered collar


i never really wanted

                   to fuck you–


i close my eyes

                   and the sky fades to blue


   what i wanted

                   was to be born inside you


a hawk is coughing

                   up the moon


Jade Hurter is an MFA candidate at the University of New Orleans, where she teaches freshman composition and works with the Scholastic Writing Awards of Southeast Louisiana. Her work has appeared or is forthcoming in Animal, Thank You For Swallowing, New South, and elsewhere.