| FROM THE MUSE | BY MNEMO RICE | MAY, 2013 |
There are no rocks on my stomach.
I leave my body and walk with
your dreaming mind because
you won’t let me see you.
The banshees gave me a voice—
it goes as deep as my thoughts,
as high as my mind can let me.
Yes, and sometimes the clouds nibble
my ears with their moisture—
sometimes, when they feel
they can’t miss the day,
and it means you’re okay with not licking the moon.