Momento from the full moon

Once I loved someone, in the same way, & for the same reason I love the moon:

you don’t need to see it every day, to know that you’ll see it again; you can’t always see it, but you know it’ll always be there…

…& then months became years & those years became the unnoticed mouldering kiss; a distance turning stale, old & cold as the empty bed.

So lonely not knowing how to explain until too late, & strange to find how changed the feeling is when found again;

the pain so far away

just like the Moon.