Power

I followed a wolf into a star and locked us inside the heat. My fingers travelled through the fur and the sky was on fire. Somewhere inside forever we found the burn. The sizzle that only comes with time and the rhythmic tick that stops for no thing. I’ve wondered if you’ve ever felt this powerful. If inside the majesty of this bond was hiding the way heaven feels…like how our breath catches on the wave of a heart beat. How no one ever knew how fierce that storm could be. How it pinned my heart, a feather against this lightning bolt. How alive it feels to be something everything wants to kill and how invincible your touch…could make me.

Sarah Frances Moran is a queer poet living in the great, sometimes suffocating, state of Texas. Her chapbook, I Am A Terrorist, released this year from Weasel Press. You may reach her at https://www.sarahfrancesmoran.com.

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