Moon & Rain
A boy gazes at the moon.
Suddenly, he imagines her
the way she’d step onto the terrace,
Letting her hair fall through her fingers
As the memory drifts,
he recalls how he once saw her as the moon.
Likewise,
she saw him as the rain.
Though he was life
soft, cleansing, gentle
she called him bad weather,
and brought an umbrella.
He/rain could fall on everything:
rooftops, rivers, roses in bloom
but never on her.
(Even though she stood on the rooftop to begin with.)
Rain was never meant
to touch the moon.
She was never his to begin with
Jul 18, 2025
Jul 18, 2025 at 5:01 AM UTC
"Thou, I can't tell what I need,
Yet in thy heart, it's already known.
I will whisper, I will resist—
Be my sapphire, I, your metal.
Molded to hold, forged to protect,
For one to be yours,
I am black—
Ever beneath you, unseen but near."
Mar 23, 2025
Mar 23, 2025 at 12:32 PM UTC
"If we part this time, who knows if we’ll ever meet again—
Maybe in stories that were soon meant to end,
On pages that fate refused to turn.
Like a rose that once blushed in the sun,
Now kissed by the midnight moon—just like my heart,
Still longing for the touch of yesterday."
Mar 23, 2025
Mar 23, 2025 at 12:27 PM UTC