EVENING MEAT – Megan LeAnne

The blooming chunk of moon            consumes a mouthful of sky every afternoon

as I drive to your house            a rabbit is raptured in a schoolyard            animals

we are                        delicate and muscular                        contorting at a peppering of light

I arrive as the evening                        deepens you welcome me            all of my aches

throb in the soft of your palms            it is true            that silence can whine I hear it

ripping at the hairs            on my neck            as if I could say what I meant            anyway

as if we all could            I mean whale talk            might be gospel if humans sang it

besides            when we sing a chandelier crackles and shatters through the room

so we quiet                        language Monarchs flap            our mouths at each other

unharmonious in the way            the music dies in the root             of the ear but lives

in the pulse of the red            blood rushing is loud enough                        pounding

out the doubt                        the fear is alive only                        when you speak its name

so ziplipped and stardrunk                        we wade into love            into the musky each other

can you hear me            I said courage            with my             ribcage I said courage

with my lungs I said grateful                        for your body grateful with my own

body be without dialect            for the excess            the fat around meat            I chew

on the night and across the table you                         chew on the glistening light

and that is final                        every mouthful            every silent delicious bite.