The Stage

The moon did just enough that night
To touch her face and watch her glow.
I saw her beam like heaven’s light
then touched her hand — She caressed my soul.

Just like a light on Shakespeare’s stage,
I stooped behind and watched her shine.
Unlike Juliet she was of age
Yet still too tragic to call her mine.

She dragged me out into her light
And a pilgrim I was no more.
I took her in and held her tight
Then kissed her as they watched in awe.

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