The child looks up at the skyㅡ
bottom lip quivered,
his eyes glistened with tears,
he sees the face of the love long forgotten in the constellations of the falling night sky.
The sunlight is gone.
My heart poundedㅡ
she never let me rest, as she never left my mind,
ever since she let go of my hand.
I only remember the very thing about her,
that the wind of the night was her nemesis.
"it moves my soul away, away and
it flies to the horizon,
and then it gets lost,
with a no way to return home."
(the words that escaped her lips)
The moon wanes.
I'm used to the way the warm orange glow of street lamps illuminate the darkened lonely street,
when the moon failed to bring a lightㅡ
when the moon couldn't make our nights.
But what if the moon was just as lonely and restless,
that every time she tries to shine for her wandering souls,
it reminds her that she's one, too?
