I closed my eyes. Let Her silver glow wash over me.
The words I long to have heard, I speak to Her through still lips.
The coolness of the air prickling my skin, little reminders of how alive I really am.
My cheeks are wet, I am comforted by her soft embrace.
Blessed are the children of the Moon, for no Mother is more forgiving of our shortcomings than She.
DM.
Standing Still at the Speed of Light 