He thought he was the sun, a huge star.
Me, the moon, only there to reflect his power.
The moon must be submissive.
He attacked in the night, stealing my power.
I, in his orbit, under his gravity's grasp.
The moon must reflect his desires.
He spoke his lies. "Relax. You'll like it."
My cries blown away with his hot breath.
The moon must remain silent.
Orbits around the sun from so many moon cycles.
My time never all mine, nor is the night any more.
The moon bears witness of the sun.
Donald Trump and Billy Bush talking in 2005
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2 comments:
Oh wow. Love your imagery.
I love you and your words. The pain is so heavy.
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