Moon gazing has become something like our thing lately
In a way the moon is even brighter than the sun
Not judging, but keeping us company
Leading our way, but not blinding us with red-hot rage
Each crater has its own story
Which is told by painting fractured patterns on our white skin
Each silver thread travelling in the earth has a secret to whisper in a willing ear
Luminescent waterfalls fall from a pale mouth up in the sky
That transform us into the moon creatures we were always meant to be
Each caress and each word is soft like the tendrils of fog circling the moon
Or sharp like its silver beams floating down to the bedroom's floor
We embrace both as we cup the pale orb sailing the black canvas
Into each one of our hands
And capture it so that it will be the only witness
To our moon-lit euphoria
A/N: Dedicated to the lovely polaris_ because she's a great inspiration for me, a sweet person and she also made me the amazing banner on the side.
YOU ARE READING
incandescent
PoetryBecause our love was like a fire: sometimes we let it consume us, and others we made it shine. A collection of poems.
