Beloved Luna, I return.

I look to him again, so handsome and always there. Always. 

My moon shining and tonight he grins. Yes I return, with my company of bottle and cigarette; tip burning to the filter. 

He likes me on my back in complete submission. As to remind me of how small and finite I am in this vast world. He whispers how he loves the shade of green my eyes get when tears fall silently from their corners. They tickle on their way down. So I smile.

He sends me a wind and tousles my hair. The grass I lay in, fresh with forming dew from the morning that appears to be promised this time around. 

Here we go my lover Luna, 3 am walks and a free soul who's wings just don't give a fuck to fly. 

Tell me, while you  are up in that sky, she must be quite exquisite for him to just get up and not even say goodbye?

a.b.Carleton