What the moon believes

The moon believes

the sun

reciprocates her love

believes she is more

than just a vehicle

for his reflection

to cast his light toward

another body.

The moon believes

her craters inhabitable

wills water

to trickle in her crevices

she stacks delicate mooncakes

on trays and waits

for visitors who rarely come.

She wants her surface

to bustle.

Her hope is waning.

The moon believes

the lunatics

heeds their cries

she is full

of hurt and heart

wondering  if

as they say

she drove them to it.

The moon is tired

of waxing,

sick of the expectation

she should bear it all.

The moon believes

her body

is big

and bright

and beautiful.

The moon believes

the earth spins

for her.

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