Half Open

I miss those nights
when the velvet sky
would press itself against me
as you outlined the moon
on my back,
her mouth was always half open.

Do you remember
how the sun shone
at morning tide?

I do.

Her hair
diffused a golden halo
upon your heart,
envision the glow.

Can you imagine
how beautiful I felt
when your fingerprints left
the light of the moon
on my back,
when all else
was somber?

Like a blushing Goddess,
but it's pitch black now.