In her Rapunzel tower

she watched and waited

for each night’s moon;

to rise from the window ledge

into full view,

waxing and waning

crescent yellow blue.

The lines in its face

told a story of heartache

she also knew;

the puckered pale flesh

weaving rivers across her thighs,

reflecting dead light

in the night sky.

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Kristiana Reed day dreams, people watches in coffee shops, teaches English and writes. She is a curator on Blood into Ink, a collective member of The Whisper and the Roar & Sudden Denouement, and blogs at My Screaming Twenties. She is 24 and is enjoying the journey which is finding her voice.