i never could quite decipher
why the sun would desire to set for the moon every night.
why every night he would slyly set
and allow her to evaporate into the beautiful night sky
where it would be full of the star's company.
the whole world waits for her to ascend,
preparing to delight in her beauty,
and snap photos of her,
knowing she will diminish
the second they lay their heads on the pillow
and shut their eyes.
for the moon does the same for the sun
with this crucifixion type of love.
this love isn't one-sided;
it isn't selfish.
this kind of love is only found
in the hearts of certain lovers.
this love is rare.
i haven't found it,
but i know it's there.
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I was inspired to write this poem based off of the quote I once saw which was, "tell me the story about how the sun loved the moon so much he died every night to let her breathe."