The Moon Goddess

I wish I was the Moon Goddess. She is round and made of other smooth curving shapes; she is full of shapes and she is never ashamed. She wears them proudly still reaching for the Moon unafraid of rejection.

And the Moon loves her. The Moon loves to set her and her curves aglow as she walks naked in its light. She is happy with herself the way she is and she is free to love others without restraint. Without fear. Without doubt. Without end.

I wish I was the Moon Goddess so I could love myself, my shapes and curves the way she does. And have the love of the Moon in return. But the Moon chooses to love only one and it chose her. It’s vastly known it doesn’t love her for her beauty however. The Moon loves the Goddess’ happiness and that she has found in herself, in her shapes and her curves.

I wonder; did she ever feel the way I do? Did she ever hide herself away promising to reveal her true self once she was perfect knowing in her heart the perfect she yearned for would never be achieved?

I strip bare in the night by the water. It’s still. Eerily so. It’s a mirror for the sky. The stars look like pebbles in a clear lake; I’m there too.

I can see all my shapes and all my curves. I want to be like her; the Moon Goddess. I reach for the moon like her but I realize as I stare at my own reflection that I still don’t look like her. Why? I pull my fingers into a fist in frustration. This I do for myself and I notice how funny my reflection looks. I let myself laugh out loud; who will hear me out here? I gaze at my reflection as she laughs at herself and a weight lifts from my heart. Is this how it happened for her too, the Moon Goddess?

Was the first curve she fell in love with the one that spread on her lips?