Apogee

His love was the moon.
In a world of night,
I fixated on a glowing white orb.
His attention made me forget the dark.
During the day, his affection shone elsewhere.
Tenderness only beamed while the city slept.
His warmth waxed and waned at a whim.
Only revealing all of it rarely.
Fondness full of craters.
He attracted the ebb and flow of others.
The lack of his devotion could make the shadows more full.
The empty black where he didn’t shine at all.
Time when his love turned orange and hateful scared me.

But, oh, how I still wait for an eclipse.