Fallen Sun

It wasn’t like the day you told me that 

the starlights were falling behind the red horizon.

The sun’s spilt cherry wine over the teal sky

darkening into bleeding purple above.

 

You are not like the scarlet sunset I once knew,

fragments along the silver lining. 

Your eyes glow with hazy moonstones,

no longer illuminating like a bright halo. 

 

I know your soul

and it is not the white fire that burns my doubts.

Inside you are a moon child, dancing in a beam of light.

You give me hope when I am lost in space.

Your heart is young, no longer willing to submit to the chaos of fire.

 

That spark in your heart diminishes into shards of moon dust. 

You are destructive. Not like the forbidden touch of a molten river,

but of the consuming ocean waves. 

 

I saw a shooting star and I thought of you.

You are no longer like the painted sunrise at dawn, 

but the rising moon at dusk.

 

You are my fallen sun.