when the sun says goodbye to the moon.

restThere are nights where the moon doesn’t shine above. Perhaps she doesn’t want to feel the sun – she doesn’t want his rays. It feels broken – the night – when she doesn’t show her light.

You’re going home – far from this place – and the moon is our bet. It’s my last grace for this last night.

My head bends as I sniff the vanilla of your hair. Maybe I should drop some into my coffee the next dawn. Maybe I should get some fragrance with the same scent for my apartment.

You depart from my embrace.

Without looking, I know, the moon has risen.


Thank you for reading this story. If you want to talk about random things with me, do not hesitate to reach me through my “Contact” page. All the best love, my dear.

let me hold your words before you leave;

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