Moon & Rain
A boy gazes at the moon.
Suddenly, he imagines her
the way she’d step onto the terrace,
Letting her hair fall through her fingers
As the memory drifts,
he recalls how he once saw her as the moon.
Likewise,
she saw him as the rain.
Though he was life
soft, cleansing, gentle
she called him bad weather,
and brought an umbrella.
He/rain could fall on everything:
rooftops, rivers, roses in bloom
but never on her.
(Even though she stood on the rooftop to begin with.)
Rain was never meant
to touch the moon.
She was never his to begin with
Jul 18, 2025
Jul 18, 2025 at 5:01 AM UTC
Moon & Rain
A boy gazes at the moon.
Suddenly, he imagines her
the way she’d step onto the terrace,
Letting her hair fall through her fingers
As the memory drifts,
he recalls how he once saw her as the moon.
Likewise,
she saw him as the rain.
Though he was life
soft, cleansing, gentle
she called him bad weather,
and brought an umbrella.
He/rain could fall on everything:
rooftops, rivers, roses in bloom
but never on her.
(Even though she stood on the rooftop to begin with.)
Rain was never meant
to touch the moon.
She was never his to begin with