On evenings where the light shone brighter than ever
and pink and purple blossom decorated the trees, she was awake
more than he was.
Those longer, warmer days,
when the rays kissed everything it touched,
she found it harder to sleep and kept her brilliant eyes open.
Not only did she warm their skin,
she warmed their hearts.
She had a parter.
Her husband. Her confident.
Her reason to exist.
Like forbidden love,
their paths only crossed when her work was done and his begun,
but just for a moment,
where they became one.
Each time they kissed, they created something beautiful.
She was day and he was night.
In the summer, she worked harder than him, burning magnificently for hours.
Tired. So tired.
While she worked, he rested.
The time had come for their shared embrace.
When she yawned, he entered her and they began to merge.
Her once yellow light dimming to burnt oranges and reds.
She sunk lower, her heat almost drained from her skin
and while her coloured subdued and faded,
he rose.
She gave in to his velvet midnight touch and she peacefully slipped into a deep sleep.
Crisp, cool air and delicate light was cast across the landscape.
Crickets song getting louder and the faint sent of roses lingered in the air.
His mighty stretch and yawn shook the ground below.
Once his cloak was wrapped around his shoulders it covered him and expanded to coat the sky in a dark sheet. Pulled from one corner of the earth to the other, wrapping around the moon and caressing it.
A wonderful tapestry was created,
of blue, grey, and black.
As her eyes would softly close, the light begins to fade, and darkness envelopes it all.
Over the years, his cloak began to show signs of wear, and tiny holes emerged in the thick strands of dark colours.
She slept,
But as she did, fragments of her bright light shone between the shredded rips
of indigo and slate that was his cloak
radiating silver shimmer on the land below.
It was this that the souls bellow liked to call stars.
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