In the West, we refer to the man in the moon,
yet in Nepal, a woman reigns over the darkness,
tonight a perfect circle softly illuminates the earth below,
while whispers, couplings, secrets, intimacies are shared.
She keeps the dimmer switch on low,
the edges blended like a charcoal pencil,
a watered down acrylic paint,
she drapes in shadow, a heavenly photoshop,
blurring the harsh exposure of the day.
The goddess of the moon sets the stage,
the stars add pinpoints of sparkle, twinkle,
the science behind these phenomena learned
long ago and forgotten.
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