My Moon has gone.
I can only taste the dark.
I look up at frosted stars that cast neither warmth nor shine, neither light nor shape upon a mighty slab of slate cold sea before me.
Silently swaying, I remember those rhythmic tides that daily cleansed my soul, that unyielding force that nudged and caressed and tugged me back to you.
Now you are gone.
Breathe, I remind myself.
I breathe. Ice cold in, then out.
I look up but cannot see.
We were both creatures of the night, you and I, happiest when wrapped in the comfort of those twilight hours.
Darkness held no fear, for like the moon, you always reflected something of the day, casting a warm glow that enriched my long forgotten senses.
At each nightfall, we would gather and as one gaze out upon the world, amazed at our own being and content with all that is now.
But that was then.
Tonight, I kneel, on a silent beach,
Clench my fists and call your name,
Keen, as your reflection burns deep within me.
I close my eyes and wait for moonrise.