tattooed moons i went to learn perminance. space stations dipped needles in their dark. a teleprompter full of centos. the moons' wild bright skin without any evidence of a language i could learn. old inhabitatns who only spoke in memories of water. their obits ice-skating my collar bone. the juggler on the corner of the space station where he drop his bells. for my first tattoo i dreamed the action could make me into an astronaut. blood to the surface. breathing only galaxy dust. angels with feathers made of glass. when i say "heavenly body" the moons say, "we want to be less holy." who doesn't want to be less holy? i write my name where no one will see it. an ocean used to break here or else this was a face rolling in the skull gardens of our grandfathers. no one was proud of me but me. taking the fear of transition & snuffing it out. when i say "fear" i mean delight. my joy is the kind that burns stone. the moons gather to exchange secrets. point to their mouths & say, "here is where i want a name."