We danced in the marrow of fire
where your laugh was a hymn to the sun
and my breath, fiery dawn
against your calm.
The moon was yours, wasn't it?
You claimed it in laughter,
its craters mirroring the scars you hid.
Now it hangs over me, pallid and ever so distant,
a barren reminder that your light bends,
but never stays.
Nov 24, 2024
Nov 24, 2024 at 8:57 PM UTC
We danced in the marrow of fire
where your laugh was a hymn to the sun
and my breath, fiery dawn
against your calm.
The moon was yours, wasn't it?
You claimed it in laughter,
its craters mirroring the scars you hid.
Now it hangs over me, pallid and ever so distant,
a barren reminder that your light bends,
but never stays.