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i realized tonight, as she walked me home, that i have no mythology for the moon. this is terribly odd. i'm used to being surrounded by it, to having everything i touch be a symbol for something else, to always have the stories at hand. everything i know about the moon is personal. sappho named her silver, yes, and the word itself is masculine, but these are very small things. she is someone i'd sneak out to see, rubies and candles in hand. she'll lead me home; although i have no system for it, my sense of direction is sometimes moon based. i can tell you about tides, about the way she pulls us, stabilizes us, keeps us constant while she shifts. but there are no explanatory fictions between us. our friendship is a strange one. i know i like her immensely, but i don't know who she is.
(no subject)
Date: 2004-05-02 12:29 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2004-05-02 06:49 am (UTC)