Alanna the Moon Lesbian

[Lacuna]

From the time I was but a small sliver myself I was always fascinated with the moon. How it moved in bright days and on clouded nights, mingling with sunsets and reflecting sunshine. I wanted to put my fingers into each of its craters and caress them, reminding it that scars do not define anything because we are still being pulled along, one heavenly body orbiting another and another, out in the middle of the universe until the end of time.

We’ve had a lot of nights together. Me, lying out in the glowing grass when I was supposed to be asleep, the night so empty of sound that I thought I could hear you breathe. You, so reassuringly distant and unchanged since before my memories, cold and white and hot at the same time. They say it’s beautiful that two lovers from across the world can look up and see the same sky, but I looked up only to see my love returned in kind. I mixed midnight recipes while you crossed the horizon, a circle growing larger through refracted light, seeming closer to me as you pulled my tides.

Your love waxed and waned but I never felt lonely; even the best of friends and lovers need a break from each other sometimes. For three days a month (or a moon, if you’d like it to be about you) you lit up my life, the cold kind of fire that I could stand in for a long while. For three days on the other side you hid your face from my sky, maybe looking at me, maybe seeing something too big for my eyes. I knew you were always there though, hidden behind clouds or the wrong angle to glow, your face tidally locked with Earth even when it didn’t show.

But, I got jealous of the sun, I’ll admit. How she kept us apart when you might not want to be, throwing us into shadows and the Earth into the star’s light alone. When you last passed in front of her face where I could see you from the United States I cheered for you, a triumphant victory for us. The next time the moon was full I tried to keep you here forever with a spell, but instead the next new moon you never came back, gone from my sky for not days, but years. I wasn’t the only one who missed you, but it was my own greed that ripped you away, tearing me apart until I was only one-sixth my weight. When astronomers looked up at the sky they saw nothing, not even the pockmarked craters that always assured me you would come back.

It is 2017 now. There are crystals on my shoulders and hips and a crescent on my tail among others. It is like I became you, the moon’s wife wearing a ring, so devoted to you that she never took another. I worked my potions on the night that would have been another eclipse, lit by the glow of the stars alone. I gave myself as an offering, hoping you would return so we could have a modern harvest for you. And tonight, the day after the next new moon, you will rise again: both of us together to give a faint yellow light at just the right angles.

A lover does not belong just to you, but to herself and everyone else she chooses to. Share your love and joy so it lights up every part of the land, sky, and ocean. I know this now. Jealousy made me weak but I hope you learned something with these dark sights: we are full together on those three bright nights, but we are also full the rest of the time, even in starlit darkness. You are yourself alone and cannot know the truth about loving unless you let her go. Call her sometimes, though. You’ll come back together if you both work for it, if you take your time and call it precious, if you lift her up even when you cannot understand it, if you talk to her in the darkness, if you do nothing ever but love unselfish.

[raey]

This was very, very, very beautiful <333

And so lovely and cute and aaaaaah

[abxy]

Did she ever consider moving to Alaska?