But my love, words cannot describe the moons love for daybreak, when people stop halfheartedly calling her beautiful and leave her alone with the man living on her

But my dear, no poem is enough to explain the loss of self she felt when man stepped foot on her bare surface, yet she was still forced to shine every night and show the retched face she calls home

But my angel, for centuries people wondered about the moon, why she shines full once a month, why no man was allowed to touch her

But my sweetest, why did the wonder stop when we forced ourselves upon her, when man kind stole objects from her surface and left his mark on her skin

But my star, she still shines bright, for there are ones who still wonder, who believe she is always whole, that she is never halfheartedly beautiful

But my moon, you are strong, your attackers did not seal any of your phases. You are no less. You are still a goddess in the night sky.