an ode to the moon

There has to be an explanation for the periwinkle moon. 

The way it lights the night, and makes you feel so safe. It looks so different when you are at home, out of the city, surrounded – by not only stars, but souls, love, secrets. 

You stop. Sit. Listen. 

You can hear the shiver of a young girl who is beginning to feel trust. The nervous laugh of a boy who’s scared to feel love. 

Secrets. Secret, after secret, being shared. Words people are too scared to say in the daylight – like the moon can protect them. 

Trust grows, drinks flow – you can hear the laughter of groups enjoying each other’s company, after a long day, after a long week. You can hear the thump, and the blood pumping through those letting their guard down, dancing endlessly to the music that frees their soul.

You feel like you can take a moment. Feel the real emotions you are scared to touch in the light of day, while the sun shines on your face.

Some of those alone, feel more lonely. 

Lovers. Become more encumbered by their love – like there’s nothing else to feel. Maybe there is nothing else to feel. Shed of clothes and shields – sharing nervous, shivering skin – aching to be wrapped in each other.

The young feel more daring – as if the moon is saying, ‘Shh. I won’t tell anyone.’

The old let their memories rush over them – a mug of hot tea, wrapped in their shaking hands, closed eyes, breathing in the crisp night air. Remembering when they dared to live. 

For people never share their deepest secrets, feel their most raw emotions, their bodies and their skin, as they do with the charm of the moon.

Stare at the sky, and millions stare at it with you. 

You stop. Sit. Listen. 

There has to be an explanation for the periwinkle moon. 

And I think it’s you. 

Artist: @nocturnalcoonz (instagram)

Categories: Rackers

rackers

25 year old writer, just trying to find her way through the world through words.

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