The Crescent Moon

We keep this lantern in the sky
smiling without ever dying down

through the course of the evening
and the river where its light is reflecting

how beautiful we see the trees
and fog by the forest. This quietness

quite enlightening, light over the light
silk white curtains, your kimono

carried away by the wind created
by your fan, blowing you away

along with the smoke rising, becoming
clouds, softer than cotton. Here

lies the girl who guards the moon,
beaming a smile like it, but like no other.

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