my coat pockets are lined with fur
the kind that is not there for comfort
but for style
she keeps her hand in there, not for warmth
but for the comfort of company
for that strange company that everyone wishes for
only in the night
we walk through the woods
and the bright moon begins to outshine the sun
the beauty of  light in darkness overpowering even the noon sky
she stares up at the moon
and says
“that’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
I smile and agree, though
I’m not looking at the moon