The Moon

The moon over the salt sea, that is her, She moves me back and forward, I am the sea. Her beams control me, help to give me strength or take it away. I enjoy the times she shines just right, casting me in the right light, and we just sway, musicians compose music to try to capture the ambiance of that moment for ears to hear, while artist try to recreate it visually and hope that eyes create tears at the sight of true beauty that is created with her and me. The stars envy her, the sun holds jealousy because to be this insync, we could never be. They say the moon is exclusively tied to that of water. She is exclusively tied to me, she makes my heart beat harder at my chest like the moon forces waves to beat harder at the sand. I compare us holding hands to the sight of the moon appearing to sit right on top of the sea, because it is a truthfully blissful sight to see. Our vibe is right to me, like the light the moon creates on top of the sea, not too much, just enough to admire at the beauty that comes from two of God's most majestic creations. She clings to me like I cling to her, and even tho she shines on me, she holds all of my secrets. She can drive me insane sometimes, so insane I destroy things, never harming her, or she can keep so calm that I move not one bit. She is the moon to my sea, she shines a light only bright enough for her to see what's really inside of me.