It, that once was is now a teabag soaking inside my thermos; summery and effervescent, and full with the sweet scent of earth after rain.
It, like the orange-slice-moon is disintegrating with time and is no longer as grand a part of me as before.
But it is fleeting and furtive and I'm afraid it will always be a part of me, hiding In the dark half of my penumbra...
But then there is you, warm in my moonlight as if my light was honest and pure...
please don't let me eclipse...