They met at sunset

They met at sunset

When the day met the night,

she glowed brighter

in hopes that her rays 

would brighten his version of the world.


But when that didn’t work,

and when he couldn’t carry himself to the morning dew,

she attempted wishing upon his starts.


Her life became his, held in the hands of the lunar cycle,

but he—

the moon—

he always fell down,

so she spent the days alone

waiting for him to find his footing.


But once the chaos was hit by a brilliant, striking light,

and a golden sliver fell right along the cracks,

it revealed that she had been pulled down with him all along.


And she disappeared under the stone,

only to rise through the darkness

when a brief pocket of moonlight awakened her;

when his hand swept with gentle grey across her face.

But for him, she was a dream,

and for him, she faced her fear of the dark—

it was all for him.


Neither of them could win,

for they both ran from the thought of losing.

The sun returned to her perch along the days,

and the moon returned to himself

where he shrunk from the sheer thought

of what he had done to her.

And in her selfless act

to discontinue her warranted shine,

she showed him

what it meant to be plagued by nightmares.