look… more… I should stop…

A lofty goal, reaching the moon
and tying him down to the carpet beneath your feet.
It is not avoidable, it is a conquest.
You know, in your soul, that there is nothing-
nothing but the moon and your endless need for his comfort.
The moon holds you still,
Staring into your eyes he promises you everything-
The world, the stars, your dreams.
There is no escape from his endless gravity.
Pulling you close, he promises you
that he will always be there;
he makes promises not worth keeping.
Looking past the moon you see what you should choose.
There is more out there,
but the moon demands your full attention.
He holds you.
You comply, not bitterly, but because you know you must.
There will always be a tomorrow,
but there will also always be the moon.

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