My Moon

She was the moon. Beautiful, and constantly changing. Her bright green eyes with hints of sunshine dancing through them haunted my every waking moment. When I closed my eyes the smell of her lingered if only for just the briefest of moments. Hours after she hugged me I could still feel the places where she had touched me, and I could still feel the warmth of her embrace and the memory of her presence. At night when the sun just barely comes above the horizon, I roll over and open my eyes. Sometimes I still expect to find her there, fast asleep, her back turned to me. I expect to feel her roll over in the morning and to open my eyes and see her soft gentle sleeping face. I expect to wake up and dread waking her up not because she's stubborn and won't get up but because I like to watch her sleep so peacefully. But I would also be lying if I said that I didn't enjoy being the one to wake her. Gently placing my hand on her shoulder, whispering her name, convincing her to get up for, if not for me then for food. I know... It sounds like I am speaking of somebody I've dated, somebody I was intimate with, but that is not the case. I did love her though. I loved her with everything I had, my entire being gave way to her like the the shore gives way to the sea. I still love her, and my heart still aches and breaks for her. Her love of music, and passion for art, the way she is so loyal to her friends. She doesn't know it yet but she will never die, for I have ingrained her into my poems, I have sewn her into my stories, lost her in my dreams, she is written within the pages of my heart. She will never disappear for she will live on in my writing, forever trapped in the ink of my words. Each stanza and every syllable dripping her essence until everyone who reads my words falls for her in the same way that I did. For she is the moon and I am just a humble captivated speck in her universe.