the sun and the moon danced once —
twirled, intricately;
revolved around each other,
orbits seemingly pushing away
while pulling ever closer.
two extremes,
two halves to a whole,
whole themselves.
the sun and the moon kissed once -
a soft brush of vibrance and darkness,
explosions of light and shadow.
and just for a second,
the sun and the moon were one —
before being torn apart,
never to encounter again,
except —
in those tranquil moments
of indecisiveness,
when day and night overlap,
time doesn’t exist
and an eerie blanket of possibilities
is draped over reality.
