Do you see the moon, my darling? – With all its hidden beauty and eeriness that seems to hypnotize anyone who dare try to spare a glance. I was one of its conqueror and I have been put into the same fate as Romeo who dare swore upon a huge balloon of inconsistency. As you see, my darling, the moon does nothing but harvests our secrets and it knows.
It knows for I was a fool to had let it look through my eyes, my love. It knows for I have sworn like a madman and cursed like a sailor. It knows for I told it in a haze like a crying wolf.
I have loved you too much in the silence, too much on my own, and the moon hadn’t let it be unknown.
I’m terrified to look at it now and spill all of my deepest secrets for I know how you fancy the moon so much that you talk with it too; only hoping that you tell it about me, too.
It’s a secret you see.
The moon knows.
The moon knows how much I bask away with poetries about your eyes and how I get lost in the smell of nicotine and caffeine just to get rid of the taste of your lips against mine.
So, look at the moon, my darling, look further, my love, and let it tell you how much I am in love with you.
And I hope you tell it about how much, you, love me, too.