100 words of prose (well, 102, but who’s counting)
Another glowing moon. This one touched with Winter’s approaching chill. Tonight my heart does not take flight upon the silver moonlight, laying heavy in my chest instead. i think of all the Full Moon songs i sang for love, my voice raised in adoration of the wholeness i felt inside, my heart flying with feelings of infinity.
Tonight i do not focus on the Moon’s bright light, but on the dust that lies so thick and still upon her surface. Surely it is made up of the crushed dreams and shattered promises of every lover who ever walked or whispered in her glow.