We sit across
each other over
cups of coffee-
like we don’t know
the exact order.
like you don’t know
my favorite movie.
like I don’t know
the last time you cried.
like we don’t know
the unseen.
like we don’t know
we never truly died.

like we don’t know | shevaun stonem

it’s funny how I
write of things I
know and things I
don’t- and someone,
somewhere,
has lived
through my
poetry and prose.

poetry and prose | shevaun stonem

and every night
when you steal
seconds to glance
at the moon, I
hope you slip
into hours, days of
being reminded
of me,
running through your bones,
moving like the stars,
that maybe I was
not made to be the sun,
because, perhaps,
you are,
and all I did was
reflect to show you,
that the moon was
never second best,
just a reminder of you,
when you shone
somewhere else.

i am the moon | shevaun stonem