Moonborn Aura Guerra-Artola I am the Moon’s daughter. Forever shifting roomswithin the skin I call home.My light has crossed the tides, so have my shadows.
I leave pieces— memory like bark, fallen between full and hollow.
I lay in the hands of the earthwhat in mine has completedits cycle—in case she willsthat it might bloom anewfor someone else.

More from Aura Guerra-Artola ↓

• @g.a.aura on Instagram
• Her book, How to Live with a Cat on Your Chest and a Whale in Your Heart, is out now

Mentioned in this episode:

Write After: National Poetry Month with One Poem Only

Write After is a way to encourage poets to listen and write, and use National Poetry Month to highlight how listening to poetry makes us better poets. I know I write the best when I’m surrounded by beautiful poetry–it’s part of the reason I created this podcast, and I want to encourage others to share this practice.

We'll get started in April. You can share to #WriteAfterOPO.

#WriteAfterOPO