January in Cerrillos, a tired sun kneels
beneath the mountain ridge around five
lays his lips on the belly of the moon
as she rises and throws a black cloak
over her shoulders
he admires her cyclic tumescence
gazing up as she wipes her hand across the sky
and angles dormant crystals towards her pale skin
she wakes the zodiac
placing her other palm
on the back of the earth, slowly
spreading a healing salve
over her child’s sunburn
over the desert
her thick silver breath hovering
coyote howls ricochet through empty arroyos
the whole land pulsing in yips
she walks through the night and leaves a scent in every room
a subtle spritz, drowned roses
to see her is to be
released, unbound by her rays
which anesthetize you
which split your head open
and take your dreaming mind
vulnerable
she carries you like this
a sleeping baby
bundled between cloak and breast
gently pacing across the sky
and when she crouches down to lay you
in the arms of the sun
she waits in the light
evanescent, to see
your open eyes