Sometimes there are so many stars out that I'm afraid
I'll waste my whole night looking at every single one.

Sometimes the moon has been carved up and is waning;
a crescent that seems as frail as I feel.

I walk around the snowy streets, life bouncing off crystals
found under foot. Night is lit like day.

Then there are nights when I'm as full as the moon,
when wolves gather and howl at me.

Still sometimes the new moon leaves the sky all together
and takes me with as it disappears.

The Sun loved the Moon before the word even took form,
but their lights allow them together only on stolen time.

Grabbing the Sun's lips and finally touching them to the Moon's,
I am reborn as the child they create.

And the world wont know what hit it.