You and I

He watched the moon
A ghostly image of an orb
Hollowed from his chest

Aching, he watched
A silent astronomer
Counting phases

Several thousand light years away
She glowed
Pulsing with stolen light

“Imposter”, he whispered
Drenched in the silver
Of a moon he saw but didn’t feel

She floated through the ether
Galaxies away, a misfit, orbiting
Masses she was tied to

He waited
His breath slowing
Ever so faintly

Eyes pinned and peeling
Away layers of light and darkness



A moon not made
For the night sky
Of his flawed world

And she blazed
Through circles and cycles
With a tsunamic urge to break free

He ached
And she pulsed
To the rhythm of his aching chest

Unbeknownst of a meeting
To align itself

For the shimmering orb to finally
Settle into the hollow
Moulded in the warmth of his heart