new craters appear brighter to the naked eye some not even named yet that’s what we hear back from the ones we flung the furthest the ones who spent 40 minutes in that real place the ultimate no contact mountains rising as large wounds, high albedo in the western shine small islands of light beyond the impossibly rugged line of the terminator a rippled kiss on the far side of the moon, more circular than anyone remembered the earth so bright behind they had it covered by a shroud and i wonder what it would be like to have perfect memory to have rays of ejected material strewn across your ancient lava face, carrying every impact 60 year old footprints to have all your flags motionless— turned white
full moon joy
