Asking if I loved him was like
doubting if I had loved
the Sun
at all. Its vitality and
lightness; streaks
and bursts of sunshine
alike. And when its presence
turned to absence,
there was still
the Moon. A reminder
that there is light even in the
darkest
of the Night.
Sep 8, 2013
Sep 8, 2013 at 2:51 PM UTC
Asking if I loved him was like
doubting if I had loved
the Sun
at all. Its vitality and
lightness; streaks
and bursts of sunshine
alike. And when its presence
turned to absence,
there was still
the Moon. A reminder
that there is light even in the
darkest
of the Night.
