Alone with the Moon

Past six o’clock in the evening, the world seemed like a lonesome place to be. There’s no one around to see. The sea was so serene. The sky was getting dark. The wind blows, chilled me.

I felt isolated. But I had enough time, waited for somebody to come and share the darkness with me. Nothing to fret on, patience is my good worth.

Thirty minutes later, it paid off when I saw something ahead, straight from the horizon. It appeared to get out of its hiding. More than willing to prove to itself, its eagerness to give light, courage and reasons not to afraid in the gloomy variety of life.

It’s naked and beautiful. Its body was wonderful that turned me on and aroused me like a desperate old man. I stopped and can’t help but stared, while it seized my consciousness. Felt its need of me more than my needs to it. I had the notion we loved each other that night.

As we went face to face, it exposed everything about me. My desire, dreams, and weaknesses were put into picture, reflected on its luminous self. The moon and its disguised radiance but dim in reality, its perfect coin-shape form but have flamboyant, unstable surface in veracity, its nearness in sight but beyond human-flesh touch, theoretically.

That was the night when the moon stripped me. And by its light and splendor, nobody took the path with me. I was alone, and that will be the last …

This blog is dedicated to Edriane, my son.