I thought I loved her.
But how could I ever love her when she knows as much about me as I do myself?
Shouldn’t either if us know the other better to understand?
Maybe if we talked more, we would work.
But how can I talk to her if she is a flower, and I am barely a petal.
YOU ARE READING
THE STARS LOVE THE MOON
Poetrythey keep watching the strangest of all loves to work out. They exist for each other, rarely next to each other. they would lose their light without any of them gone.
