"The roses are sung...a moonlight serenade..."
The moonlit mist blankets his soul, stripping his arms of strength but still he rides her clear mist finding his love where beauty's light meets the earth. A light that has been graced to shine upon her as she looks up in admiration towards such nightly calls of grace.
His heart of flesh beats fluttered. Blessed to make the trip and graced to be able to touch her just enough to leave him pining for texture his skin has yet to describe outside of the ethereal.
For by the moon...he sees as angels do. Watching with outstretched wings that bear heavy burdens longing to be set adrift upon a sea dressed of lightly pressed sunrisen kisses. That all should be made new by the sun.
Wings that cry on their own that steady his height to gaze...to admire...and to envy those that get to freely touch this work of earthen art.
So graced by God to watch her gaze upon the very moon that drew him. So cursed by time with not enough of her to satiate...but just enough of her smile to quench the moments thirst for beauty.
By the moon...as angels do...
~Moses Apollo Apolinaris
