I am the moon and she is the sun. we're in the same world, we can look at each other without any hesitation. but I can't touch her. I can't touch her. when it's her time to come out and play, she leaves me reflecting in the sky to keep a close eye on the many changes I have to stay alive. when she sets for bedtime, she keeps enough light on to help me shine the way in the darkness. sometimes, we collide. an eclipse so bright, a touch so magical that it's blinding. I breathe in her touch. I breathe in the pain she brings me, the fire that warms me when I'm oh so cold. our collision course is beautiful and reckless, but so rare. I can't touch her.
I've been writing something everyday so far this year. day 12.