Waiting...

The moon has recently become my best friend.

A witness to my tears and smiles,
ear to my thoughts,
companion to my silence.

In the middle of the night
with coffee scalding my tongue
and a cig burning my lungs,
when the moon shines the brightest
or hide behind wisps of clouds
we stare at each other.

Does sadness add to your light?
Do you draw brightness from people's gloom?
I wondered.

I guess it's nice to be up there.
Where you get to see everyone.
Does being up there mean you're closer to God? or the angels? or Cupid?
If so, do you tell each other's secrets?
They probably mentioned him in passing.
Can you see him? Is he alone?
Can you whisper something to him?
Can you tell him I'm waiting for him?

Here, tonight
with coffee scalding my tongue
and a cig burning my lungs

As I do every night
with you.