You Bring Out The Moon Maiden In Me

The exercise: Write a poem titled "You Bring Out The _______ In Me" where the blank should be filled with something no one would ever actually use to describe you.

You Bring Out The Moon Maiden In Me

the swirling diaphanous ice-glittering gauziness in me
the vaporlocked vacuity, the astronaut's air-gauge reading zero in me
the ethereality, purity, asynchronous inconstancy in me
the shining sphere of healing quartz, fortune-teller's globe of glass,
gibbous green-cheese Gibson girl in me.
Meet me at the dew point and I'll jump
into your gravitational well like Ophelia in the river, I'll shine
with reflected light and a suicide's glamor. Captive satellite,
willing slave in Newton's chains, I won't
even wobble you on your axis. I'll wane uncomplaining
and wax asymptotic. If any stars or starlets should dare
to look on you, I'll stand in front of them--
that's called occultation. I'll be a cult of one.
You bring out the silver-sickle cat's-claw midnight magic in me
the star-sequined indigo-rayon high priestess robe in me
the rhinestone-tiara champagne-blonde pageant princess in me
the true-blue spoon-June New-Age new-moon moon maiden in me.
Be my strong-armed Apollo, my hot-rocket Armstrong,
walk all over me.

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