The moon is missing

I could have called out:

Just a squeak and they would have turned.

Something held me back

Kept me quiet.

Not menacingly or maliciously barring, I think.

A glowing hand on my shoulder held me in place.

I didn’t really want to go forward;

I didn’t really want to go back.

I wanted to exist in the morning at 3 am.

Looking at the moon on our ledge and whispering

As to not wake up the floor.

But I also didn’t want to stay there either.

I didn’t want that moment to grow soggy like a tremped avocado.

Sweet was my moment, out on our ledge.

When your knees touched mine,

Your unusually smooth skin somehow maintains its tan in the dark.

I am perhaps sitting too close, leg wrapping around your back.

Regret mingled with comfortability is a stingy taste,

Growing more intense the longer you chew.

Our moment is gone, like the covered moon I see tonight.

Clouds darken my sky and block my window in memories with you.

Only thoughts of your sky occupy my worries,

Wishes for a clear and colorful morning;

Wishes for kisses on your eyelashes and bouncy hair.

Wishes for your moments to never haunt you as mine do now

Wishes through the refractured light breaking the clouds,

To your starry night.