When the Sky Stayed Up

A love letter to the wild ones who glow past midnight

☽ • ☾ • ☽

The moon was supposed to be sleeping.
That’s what the stars said, anyway.
They dimmed themselves politely,
ready for rest —
but she stayed up, wide-eyed and wild,
painting silver streaks across the dark.

She hummed a tune too bright for dreaming,
danced circles on the clouds,
woke up the owls, the poets, the prayers —
and whispered, “Rest is overrated, love.
There’s beauty in the staying awake.”

So I sat beside her,
a little undone,
a little alight.
We talked about wanting more —
about all the things we keep tucked under daylight.

And when morning finally came,
she didn’t hide —
she just softened.
Because even rebels need rest,
and even light needs shade to glow.

☽ • ☾ • ☽