You called me pretty

“The moon is beautiful isn’t it?”

I asked you that with full transparency

And despite the minimal distance between your shoulder and mine

You didn’t seem to mind

You flashed me a smile

Then before I knew it

Our fingers were intertwined

No words were spoken but an answer lingered in the air

Finally, you caressed my hair and answered

“I think the moon is beautiful.”

Somehow I misheard that moon as you

But I didn’t really care