Everyone’s racing to their windows. Searching the sky for the illuminating sight for sore eyes. Their eager voices speaking a tongue of thrill. Their fingers pointing higher as life gives them everything they need. Yet my moon doesn’t sit in the sky but lays next to a body that has been through the Milky Way and back just searching for its tortured soul. My moon has almond eyes and lies through teeth that are as white as the snow we use to contain the cold shoulder. My moon whispers Sweet nothings they mean nothing and yet everything in between my moon is the comfort of a midday nap while the sun hits our faces painted in peace. My moon holds me together and holds me down better then the gravity earth ever gave. My moon never going through phases, scared of changes, he’s racing for his past. I’m racing to stop time, to make the dark last. Morning stealing my moon away, his beautiful dark complexion balancing out the light I give. Daytime brings sunshine but you made me a walker of the night just looking for a reason to live.
