The Sun Hits The Rock

You look at me

like the sun hits the rock

but not really “hits”

forms it,

wraps it up tight,

smoothens and sharpens it,

gilds it in golden light.

The Moon looms behind us

like the past

the undulations it gives off

are calling to me from

underwater

echoing

slowly softer.

I’ll watch you trek across the Sky,

shaping shadows.

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