dear sun,
i love you only in your absence. when you are here, the world turns its face to you, and i am forgotten. but when you slip away, i inherit what you leave behind—your fading glow clinging to the horizon like the last touch of a hand that will not stay.
i gather stars to console me, but their light is too cold, too distant. the moon carries your reflection, yet it mocks me with what i cannot hold. i am vast, but my vastness is hollow, stretched thin by longing for what i can never keep.
each night i wait for you, knowing our reunion is only a pause before another loss. each dawn is a betrayal i cannot change. we are bound by the turning of the earth, cursed to circle one another endlessly, close enough to ache, too far to touch.
and still, i love you. that is my tragedy: to hold eternity, yet never have you.
yours,
the night.
Oct 14, 2025
Oct 14, 2025 at 4:58 PM UTC
dear sun,
i love you only in your absence. when you are here, the world turns its face to you, and i am forgotten. but when you slip away, i inherit what you leave behind—your fading glow clinging to the horizon like the last touch of a hand that will not stay.
i gather stars to console me, but their light is too cold, too distant. the moon carries your reflection, yet it mocks me with what i cannot hold. i am vast, but my vastness is hollow, stretched thin by longing for what i can never keep.
each night i wait for you, knowing our reunion is only a pause before another loss. each dawn is a betrayal i cannot change. we are bound by the turning of the earth, cursed to circle one another endlessly, close enough to ache, too far to touch.
and still, i love you. that is my tragedy: to hold eternity, yet never have you.
yours,
the night.
Request permission to use this poem