On Moonlight
The sun is the light she borrows to illuminate us. We are the shadow we inflict upon her.
On the Terminator
The moon is lit and unlit and sometimes it is fully lit and sometimes it is dark, but this is rare. Mostly it is light on one side and dark on the other and this binary of light and dark changes daily where the light grows and the dark shrinks or the light shrinks and the dark grows. The exact moment between these two, between light and dark, the exact line of change in luminescence (of and lack thereof), is titled "The Terminator."
On Tidal Lock
The moon's body is locked to the earth's. They spin together in unison so that all we ever see is the perfect face of the moon with its oceans and seas and scars. My body is locked to the moon's.
On Maria
Lunar maria (or mare, if singular, if you are talking about only one) is a name of a woman given to the deep grey basaltic plains that from two hundred thousand miles away look like maybe, yes, they might be oceans or seas.
On the Regolith
The surface of the moon is covered in a fine powder which is titled "The Regolith" but regolith is a thing, not just a name for the fine powder on the surface on the moon, not just a thing that exists there. It is any loose, rocky or fine powder composed of ground down geological bits: minerals, etc.. When there is a loose, rocky or fine geological powder on the moon we title it "The Reglolith."
On Our Only Natural Satellite
Our only natural satellite is one made of the earth's own body: a long lost piece ripped off and molded back into a shape separate from our own. Maybe we miss her? Maybe that's why we're locked together? Maybe that's why we've spent all of our time here staring up at her body? Maybe we miss the mass of her body burning inside of our own? Maybe we are missing a piece of ourselves?
"Short Talks: On the Moon" is inspired, of course, by Anne Carson's Short Talks.