The moon in me is full of emotions,
Contractions of substance,
Mending devotion.
Ever changing and forever moving,
Within and beyond.
Phases upon phases,
Waves and illusions I perceive as flow.
The moon in me has been rooted,
Like wings of an angel clipped and connected,
Impersonating motion.
Ever changing and forever turning,
It's gravitating around my core.
The mooon in me is consumed with fear,
For forgetfulnes and remembering
The ones who were near.
Shades of confusion,
Inducing a profusion of senses.
The moon is me is never stagnant,
Because I am forever changing,
fleeting,
living,
flying,
dying,
shying away from realism,
into a sort of cubism.
About the Creator
Gabriela Trofin-Tatár
Passionate about tech, studying Modern Journalism at NYU, and mother of 3 littles. Curious, bookaholic and travel addict. I also write on Medium and Substack: https://medium.com/@chicachiflada & https://chicachiflada.substack.com/
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