a poem by Melissa-Marie Echevarria

I was his myrmidon, his wish is my command. His soft, slick raspy voice was a spell I couldn't break.

His touch was a cure.

When I tell you I love this man, trust me. I do. I love him as if he was the only person I ever meet. I

love him like the stars love the moon, and the moon loves the sun.

But like the moon and sun, we cannot be seen together. We are perfect for each other but no one

wants us to be together. So what can we do?

We sit and ponder for acceptance, we come up with new plans. For one day, you will see the moon

and sun across the sky on the same land.

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