Under the moonlight, I understood
why darkness asked for my company
or why the stars were winking at me
each dreamless night.
I knew of my existence not as a human
but as a child of the moon, as a child born from mystery.
I bore my name and I spoke it
not in whispers,
but loudly, with a feeling of belonging
to a universe that showed itself wholly
in my complicated mind,
in my damaged soul,
in the green spark of my eyes,
which encompasses every word I've left unsaid,
in the emotion running smoothly down my cheek
whenever I was thinking of you.


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