Ashlan Christensen: Chemical Moon

Front Porch

After Maggie Nelson


Sat on the porch last night.

The sky was brighter

than night should be, lit up

with city and smoking. I sit here

drenched in my impulse

to get rid of myself, suddenly,

without warning. Last night

you told me soft things,

sang me to sleep, slowly, quietly

voice shaking. Kissed my forehead.
And I guess there is a capacity

for this same lightness in me. I know this

because once I bleached my hair

until it burned white and thought

my outsides look like my insides.

It was nice to see them, a bright white

chemical moon but smaller,

less full.

Ashlan Christensen is a writer and teacher living in Denver, CO. Her work can be found under Ashlan Runyan in The Boiler and soon in Sidereal Magazine. She works primarily in essay and poetry.