The bitterly cold wind whips her thick chestnut curls about her face.
Miniature streams of moisture course down her cheeks like lazy rivers.
To a stranger's eye, the tears would be described only as a cause of the cold wind blowing into her face.
No one would actually know they are tears of a broken heart.
Arms wrapped around herself-her only comfort, she cries for the loss her heart has endured.
Memories of him pass through her mind like a swirling fog- nothing seems clear anymore.
Looking down she notices the blades of grass shining like pillars of sparkling diamonds.
It only reminds her of the captivating light in his eyes she once saw.
The moon hanging full and low, almost touchable in its splendor, reaches out with its incandescent arms to caress her face.
But tonight, she is numb to the charm.
She'd been lying in bed, forcing her mind to stop thinking about him.
That's when the moon had shown through the curtains.
Under it's control, she had come outside to see what secrets the orb would reveal.
What an interesting thing- to be caught up in the moon's power.
Even the stars can't resist her- all vying for spots as close as they can get to her.
She shivers, her skin pale, eyes red-rimmed and puffy from lack of sleep.
Silently she curses her fickle heart for not being able to say goodbye.
Every night the moon beckons to her, awakening those memories she tries so hard to push down deep inside.
But like the sweeping fog of the early morning, his memory hangs about her.
In her mind's eye she can see him, but as soon as she reaches out, he disappears with a mocking laugh.
Sleep is pointless when the moon is always there to remind her that the moment her eyes close- there he'll be.
Always lurking in the moonlit mists of her dreams.