I saw the Moon. Did the Moon see me?
Near the edge of where the Earth bit off the Sun’s light, she had a crater.
It was grey and large, a faded scar. Nearby were speckles of darker black, deeper pits in her surface. She shone only brightly around her blemishes.
I stopped on my path and stared. It was quite rude.
Did she see me stare? Or was the night a cover for my gaze?
Perhaps she was blushing; the moonlight was radiant in the night, sanding away the lines and points of the world. As her light soaked the clouds in her face, she revealed their transparency.