the moon drips silver through the window to my right and i pretend not to notice that the bed is cold and that i miss you. the gleaming light that streams through double-paned plastic drapes everything in cloth that glitters like stars, leaving so many mysteries hidden beneath. i want to shed the light of the galaxies to expose these lies, these truths; i want to hear your voice again but i cannot move the moon. they tell me that nothing is impossible and nothing lasts forever, so when the sun rises red in the morning sky everything will be visible to you and i, together.