Most of the time I don’t feel actual
But it has occurred to me that this is real
I am real
For all I know the moon could be a figment of my imagination
It’s too far for me to touch
It’s too big for me to hold
The moon
sneaks slowly out of the dark every now and then
Its smile can illuminate the world
But, its absence is noticed
The night swallows it whole and only every so often
it is spit out
I imagine the moon gets tired
I know I do