11/20/2021 Summer of blood moonsSo it ends,
my summer of blood moons. 180 days of measuring time in broken nails and phases of the moon. It’s a cruel case of Stockholm syndrome and a bittersweet heartbreak to leave the land I grew to love. I fell for the stillness of the sand in the night, the soft glow of moonbeams on damp foreheads, pale heat lingering though the sun was still asleep. I miss the silence of middle eastern nights, the comfort of quietness forever unmatched. a lunar child I became, taken in by constellations overhead, orion making his way across a dark sky. But every night must return to day and the scalding sun will always rise again. as she climbs the horizon i beg her to leave but prey she always stays. Comments are closed.
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