She was the moon

Glowing softly

Casting shadows upon the ground

She did not know herself

With changing faces

Appearing in different skies, different places

Everyday a piece of her fell away

Until she dissolved

In a puddle of wax

Waiting to wane again

When she returned

She was whole, if only

For a day or two or three

She was whole

The whole sky would see her

Complete at last

No one could say she wasn’t beautiful

By god she was beautiful

When she was whole again