Oh, sweet Lunaria, are you lonely up there in your home of white-gold? Are you well? Are you warm, wrapped in your gown, shining with sapphire effulgence? What do you hide beneath the constellation of your surreptitious smile? What do you conceal with that rouge, that eyeshadow that you dipped into the shallows of Northern Lights? Obscured scars left by tears you were afraid to shed, locked away in your heart, kept far from the prying eyes of someone such as I, armed with my telescope, bold dreams, and steadfast hope? Oh, sweet Lunaria, gravity, my prison, holds me here, beneath the atmosphere. The air I breathe, too heavy for a moonflower such as you to flourish underneath, so I’ll watch you from afar like some radiant star that fled across night skies, searching for a place to hide until the tears dried.
“Luneria”, written by Jungle, (c) 2022, all rights reserved.