Chapter 1
The tree's blossoms, making the night go deeper
And I look up at the sky, I felt a pleasant warmth
My mind was taken upon the visuals of colors
Hoping to feel the touch of the earth
Felt like something was whispering to my ear
“Stay." whispered the tangerine moonlight.
I'm a moongazer- awestruck; I give in, hence.
Moon is an archaeologist;
She studies my history by analysing my rugged remains.
Moon and I are identical twins.
Her skin appears as if it has been marinated in dark grey.
Is she grieving?
And my tongue, you see, is only fluent in the language of grief
