Love / Poetry / Uncategorized / Writing

Day 41 of 35

The moon, in distress, followed close,
and the moths tried to pass
for their cousins but failed.
I wanted to tell you, “Look up,”
but the light was too much.

You could not see
that the constellations had moved,
that the lion had wandered off,
that the virgin had taken a lover,
that the entire system had been rearranged,
and we were no longer headed north.
No, we had no idea where we were.

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