He was like the sun.

Not because he was always shining,

Even though he was,

But because I never looked at him except in frustration.

His angry fire bursting on his surface

Was both alluring and repelling.

When he was there I basked in his warmth,

Wanting to burn myself.

When he was not I came and complained,

Wanting to see him again.

And when he was raging, I hid from him,

Squinting at him in annoyance.

But whenever he walked away,

I would look at him longingly.

He became a brilliant sunset,

And I would wonder how I never truly saw him before this.

 

She was like the moon.

Not because she was mysterious,

Even though she was,

But because I have always ignored her walking just past me.

Her muteness and pale face,

Was both her flaw and her power.

When she was there I felt her presence,

Wanting to simply stare.

When she was not there I was sad,

Wanting to see her again.

And when she tried to speak, I cut her off,

Worried about the magic being broken.

But whenever she walked away,

I would look at her longingly.

She became a dazzling sunrise,

And I would wonder how I could have ignored her before this.