a year full of life

children of the moon

i thought of you last night
[it isn't the first time since that day,
and i sincerely hope it won't be the last,
that our last memories of each other
won't be of faint hues
doused in delicate moonlight]:
last night i thought of
the curve in your lashes,
wet and clumped together
from salty patches of molten moonlight;
i dreamt of the shiny stars in your eyes,
squinting with the apples of your cheeks;
i imagined the twisting of our pinkies,
the night we swore love to each other
[a pinky promise i so so dearly wish
i could've held onto forever].

my mind was nothing but thoughts of you you you [over and over], and for a second i wondered if this was how children of the moon loved
[even separated, never truly far apart - always connected, by the rays of moonlight]
and then for another second i wondered if those rays would truly be enough, if we were never together again - that maybe our little forever wasn't really forever at all.
that thought left me reeling all over again this time of new thoughts of
wings spread upon your back,
little solar systems
sprawled through your feathers
[did it hurt to carry that much potential and love, right on the blades of your back? and would i ever be able to take a bit of that pain from you?];
dreams of ceiling fans quelling
the stings of puncture wounds
spread across your legs
like millions of constellations
[did it hurt to not have someone there kissing your wounds better? and would they ever truly heal if only the wind was there to wash away the pain?];
images of your fragile body
dancing on your own,
creating your own new memories
away on your own little galaxy
far away from me
[if you saw me here, only thinking of you, would you be disappointed? and would you ever be able to dance so freely again?]

so, my love,
if we never meet again,
i hope you know that
within our own newly made
pockets of the universe,
we'll always have
little bits of each other
[even if we feel too far apart]
for we are the children of the moon
separated only shortly when
the sun's harsh beams drag us apart
but quickly salved once again
at the first signs of dusk.