seekerpilgrim

The moon, the ivory voyeur, doesn't judge but approves the activities done in the night; she bares witness to the sticky fumblings between sheets, the secrets shared, the dark desires whispered from eager mouth to just as receptive ear, the shadows that embrace in lust, all inhibitions forgotten until the return of the bright, innocent sun who shines high in the sky...oblivious to what the moon knows and delights in.