The clouds above my head
are the same ones surging over you,
lying in your bed.
It is the very same moon
burning bright in my window-sky
that you and I see,
as far away we may be.
We bunched together
then drifted apart
in the way of clouds, buffeted on the wind,
strung along.
Droplets upon droplets form until clouds are born,
deepening, darkening, spilling over until the sun
burns through, dissipating dark.
Can love be my sun and sizzle away the dark?
Or will time evaporate the film clinging between us?
The moon is always there,
even when it shines for someone else,
glowing even when hidden by the clouds.
I only need to look up,
knowing you have too.
