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ELECTRIC MOON MAGAZINE

the peddler

by lucy whitehead
The moon comes to me as a peddler selling dreams, 
his pale pock-marked face cracked 
in a wide toothless grin, crescent back bent 

with the weight of his wares.
He is piled high with crystal cages 
of feathered animals that sing, ancient

mirrors full of gateways, lanterns lit 
with shimmering moths, puzzle boxes 
you can live in. A bunch of polished 

bone keys clatter and whistle at his hip. 
Clinking fishbowls in his silken 
slings thrash with nightmares 

whirling spiny limbs, flashing
jagged fangs, dark webbed paws pressed 
against misted glass. 

One fixes me 
with flaming eyes, tries 
to draw me in, ragged jaws open.

At the back of his pack, 
a pair of dusty silver wings wait. 
They look just my size.

Picture
​​Lucy Whitehead writes haiku and poetry. Her haiku have been published widely in various international journals and anthologies, and her poetry has appeared in Barren Magazine, Black Bough Poetry, Burning House Press, Mookychick Magazine, and Twist in Time Literary Magazine, and is forthcoming in Collective Unrest and Amethyst Review. Her Twitter handle is @blueirispoetry.

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