I was talking to the moon last night. She told me something about the sun and I told her something about you. 

I told her how you smile: how beautiful you are when you smile, because your eyes shine and your cheeks go up and it seems to me the sun is rising to bring light into my day. 

She told me that when the sun rises, he waves her goodnight, and she waves him good morning. 

I told her how you call my name: how sweet it sounds and how delicately it comes out of your mouth, how nobody but you call me that and how it has become my favourite word. 

She told me she loves talking to the sun because it brightens up her night. 

I told her when you talk you always say something funny or clever, that your voice is music to my ears and your laugh is music to my heart and your mind is the greatest of concerts. 

She told that once in a while the sun and her meet up and go on a romantic date, so she blushes: “we call it red moon”. 

I told her I could never because you don’t love me but still once in a while I let myself hope that deep down in your heart there’s a feeling of towardness that’s just waiting to be found and welcomed. 

She kissed me goodnight, the sun came up, but my thoughts kept swinging all around and then I saw you and simply went on with my day, knowing that later that night I would’ve told her the same things because love doesn’t lie. 

Giulia Ficuccio