So familiar, have I seen her before,
the eye in the sky, she captivates.
Embracing Gods reflection every night,
just for darkness, she waits.
In darkness she stands out bright,
and in light shes on the other side.
A new shape every night she takes,
to then suddenly disappear one night.
She holds up like a mirror in the sky,
reminding me of my body and my mind.
So far away, yet I feel her breathing,
just as though I would, when combined.
Up and down as though for eternity,
Working her way through the logical.
She holds the secrets of the tides,
secrets of murder with a gilded sickle.
Systematically drifting over every terrain,
reproducing dates and facts and figures.
Part of her body has never seen the light,
left for imagination, soft as whispers.
Can They Be More Specific?
30 minutes ago