the moon and me

The moon, she is a woman.
I’ve been lifted and carried in her arms.
Though she comes and goes with the tide,
I love her just as much.

Each time she goes,
she and I become a dream.
And I wonder if she hopes I’ll remember
the us we used to be.

Tonight, she’s only half
of what she can be,
and we’ve been apart for so long.

So I’ll light a fire,
and hope its flames rise high enough
to reach her.

It’s the sweetest thing
I have to offer.

The moon, she is a woman.
I’ve been lifted and carried in her arms.
Though she comes and goes with the tide,
I love her just as much.