Moon & Rain

A boy gazes at the moon.
Suddenly, he imagines her 
the way she’d step onto the terrace,
Letting her hair fall through her fingers

As the memory drifts,
he recalls how he once saw her as the moon.
Likewise,
she saw him as the rain.

Though he was life 
soft, cleansing, gentle 
she called him bad weather,
and brought an umbrella.

He/rain could fall on everything:
rooftops, rivers, roses in bloom 
but never on her.
(Even though she stood on the rooftop to begin with.)

Rain was never meant
to touch the moon.
*She was never his to begin with