I bet she loves the Moon
just a little more than the Sun
because without the Moon there's no eclipse
to kiss the sky as one.
Casting stars in daylight hours
like the enigma of a dream
her shadow bleeds onto the concrete
blooming a rose, bursting through a seam.
The poems written on her expressions
guide the inspiration through my pen
close my eyes and pages later
imagination's exploded on a whim.
I bet the Sun loves the Moon
just a little more than himself
because without her to reflect his light
he'd be alone, nothing in itself.