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  • Writer's pictureKali Szczypta

To My Lover, the Moon

I have always been likened to the Sun:

Big and bright,

Demanding attention.

Shining through gaps

In clouds

And curtains.

Painting the sky

With hues of pink and purple and orange,

An artist.

An optimist.

Looking for light in the darkness,

Which explains why I would fall for you,

My Love,

A pure white light

Nestled in a blanket of black.


To my Lover, the Moon,

Though the darkness may cover you

Do not be fooled,

You are still whole.

I see your curves

Silhouetted,

A faint ring of light

Around a Cheshire cat smile.


To my Lover, the Moon,

You have seen me laugh, cry, dance, sing.

You have watched me root, bloom, wilt, rot, and start again.

You have seen my patterns, my cycles, my phases.

Notice how they sync up with yours.


To my Lover, the Moon,

Who has never made me feel less-than

Or small.

My Lover, who has filled me with absolute certainty that we are equal.

My Lover, who rules the waves,

Who beacons the tides and watches them rise.

My Lover, without whom we would be left helpless, lost, and alone in the night.


To my Lover, the Moon,

I know things are dark right now.

I know that big black hole came and took all our shine.

I know things are lonely right now,

But know this:

We are no less whole,

And soon,

We will phase through our cycle of rebirth,

Swing back ‘round into position

And become a beautiful and full light to the world once more.

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