It has been over fourteen days since I last saw you in person. Since I last felt the magical connection I always feel as we hold hands. That magic that makes sparks fly; that magic that grants wishes without me having to wish on a shooting star.
It has been over fourteen days since I last felt the warmth of your hug. That warmth that constantly reminds me that your heart is my home. That in your arms is the safest place I could ever be; that in your arms is where I belong.
It has been fourteen days since I last felt alive and, with absolute certainty, I can say that I now know how the Sun feels. We talk everyday, but it’s never enough, because words are just words. They can be heartfelt, but they do not feel as gentle as your touch; not as caressing as your palm traveling down my skin. Not as enticing as your breath touching my ears… Words are just never enough.
This must be how the Sun feels as he uses the wind to carry messages to the Moon and back. As he travels across the big blue sky, he can’t help but wonder how the Moon is going to survive at night when the sky has become cold and dark. The stars are always present, but they are so very far apart; the Moon must be lonely at night. He does his best by sharing his light with her, but even he knows that light sometimes is not enough. Besides, what is light when what she really needs is his fiery touch?
The Moon does her best to reach the Sun, but Time is no one’s friend. Just as he is to man, he is also an enemy to the Moon and Sun. Every morning the Sun gets to take a glance at his lover, but the distance of a million miles can only allow his “Good Mornings” to be accompanied by “Goodbyes”.
Like the Sun, I feel the same way. I see you through video calls, but I’ll be honest; video calls can’t fill the void that this lockdown has created. Every day I get to see your face, but the high data rates and unstable electricity can only allow my “Good Mornings” to be accompanied by “Goodbyes”. We try to talk about the activities of our days, but 6-3 is but half a day, if we may. Our lives have become boring routines… mornings, baths, chores, errands and chlorinated washes in between. There’s not much to talk about; we live a daily repertoire. This must be how the Sun and the Moon feel as they send messages by the wind. Their lives are just routines… there’s not much that they can possibly talk about. Unlike them, however, there is hope for me and you. This lockdown will be over soon. And I can only imagine all the things I’m gonna do when my fiery hands are on you.
Authored by Elvis Teddy Thomas
Featured Picture Mohammed Asadi
Wow…… So creative
“We talked about how our day went but 6-3 is half a day”