I was wrong.
Your eyes are not blue moons,
Not because
    they are not blue,
Nor is it because
    they are not moons.
But it is because I have never seen two moons,
And neither of both I have not seen are blue.


But I have seen the moon.
It is gorgeous.
You are gorgeous.

The moon’s surface is white, pure white,
Your surface is very much similar.

The moon’s face is surrounded with pitch black,
Your face is too, although there is some dyed red.

The moon’s surface has craters,
From when the universe wasn’t so kind.
I know you have those too,
But they are lines, not seas. Red and pink, not gray.

The moon can’t cry, nor can it show affection.
For that reason, amidst infinite others, you are perfect.
The moon is not,
But it can remind me of you.

And I am grateful for that.
The moon and you.