The city stood in silence witnessing the marriage of sun and moon while an anise-flavored wind tickled their noses, beckoning them to embrace the midday twilight. Only the chirping malarkey of those facing the other way broke the stillness of the air.
Maybe I'm too hopeful in thinking that I saw you in the sky that day. Sometimes I lay in bed staring at the white speckles of the bad paint job on my ceiling trying to connect the dots of your journey. I wish we could have traded eyes - even if it was just for a little bit. I imagine lush greens, cascading mountains, and the smell of something good cooking around the corner. But I only feel the stinging mosquitos and sweat clinging to your darkened face.
I hope I don't feel this way the next time sun and moon meet.