Looking at the moon makes me sad.
Not the usual kind of sad—
but sad for the moon itself.

So far out of reach,
yet so beautiful
you can’t help but want to touch it.

It must be lonely,
being this desired,
this radiant—
yet forever untouchable.

Looking at the moon makes me sad,
sad for me, for you, for everyone…
because we’ll never truly hold
that kind of beauty.