and every night
when you steal
seconds to glance
at the moon, I
hope you slip
into hours, days of
being reminded
of me,
running through your bones,
moving like the stars,
that maybe I was
not made to be the sun,
because, perhaps,
you are,
and all I did was
reflect to show you,
that the moon was
never second best,
just a reminder of you,
when you shone
somewhere else.

i am the moon | shevaun stonem