I taste the moon on nights like this.
The smell of damp grass opens my memories flood gates.
Everything rushes in.
Every soft kiss.
Every rushed fight.
Every unkept argument.
Then the way the moon lit up our bedroom.
Our.
We always hated those words didn't we?
Now as the orange-ish glow sets in and
It grows quickly. I think of you.
Your scent.
Your fragrance.
Alluring and entrapping me.
In you, I taste the moon.