The Moon, The Sun, The Earth

I breathe in the celestial plains. I walk on rings enveloped in gold and cast upon clouds. 
I am pulled from the air, molded in dirt, spun in water and ignited in flame. 

I asked the Moon to dance with me. 
Her lips were as pale as the light that shone from her eyes; her hair in silver ringlets spun like glass. Her kiss was as cold as the vastness of space. 

I asked the Sun to dance with me.
Her hair was bright and molten; her stare held the power of our solar eclipse. When I brought my lips to hers, she cascaded over me until I was nothing. 

I asked the Earth to dance with me, the smallest of the three. 
I fell into her forest footsteps, swept along in her river's song. She had eyes that shone of wonder and lips of morning dew.

When I left our duet, I never dared to dance again.