Under the Moonlight
The moon shines brights. It’s beauty and grace emphasized by the darkness and the glitter of minuscule 24 karat diamonds that surround it. It’s holy, divine rose scented light shines through the cracks and creaks of the world. It shines on the rivers and parks where lovers hold each other to keep warm as they slowly walk. It shimmers through the window, caressing little children and filling their heads with wonderful stories and dreams. However, it’s iridescent, glimmers also reach the dumpsters and in the nooks and crannies of the bad neighborhoods. It flows through a crack in the wall, it’s rays enter an empty bottle of pills, the rest of the room lies in darkness. It gives the men in raincoats standing by the phone booth shadows that look like bandit masks. And in an empty alley, in a cold silent night with a sense of dread, it dances down from the heavens and puts a spotlight on a dumpster, filled with black garbage bags which the grimy, disease-ridden rats feast upon like kings.
It’s pale light highlights a lone pair of white beautiful legs hanging out of it. One foot is bare, its shoe lies on the ground. The toes do not twitch or tense up, they lay there as if it was meant to be. And after a while, the wind blows and the clouds move permitting for the moon to curiously peek into what resides in the trashcan. The owner of the legs lies relaxed. Her torn clothes let you get a better look of her skin, the long dark strands of hair which have wandered down her face, around her neck and are resting on her chest and the bruises serve to accentuate her flawless colors and texture. It’s as if she is her moon herself in all her dark beauty. The moment is disturbed by the first signs of daybreak. The silver luminescence takes the little time it has left to caress this woman, the cold skin feels like silver satin, smooth and soft. Elegant. The celestial body returns to the dark side of the moon and regrets only that it could not take her with it.
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