On agency and the moon

I would like to be the moon
Not talk to or be lit up by
Or have the moon activate my
Longing or nostalgia or womb

Not to see the moon as her
Or paint a smiley face on it
With my monthly bleeding
Because that is
Where feminine is and isn’t

And I am tired of the rage and the pain and the love.

No.
I would just like to be the moon

A lump of rock, silent
No thoughts
No conflict over agency

A peaceful species

Dead, alive,
Malleable and fixed.

And silent

Or far away enough that no one could tell the difference.