The moon hangs hang in the dark sky.
Bright as it is, creating a misty ring of light
along its almost-circular circumference.

A near full moon.
Faulted only by the slim missing edge at the top.

Yet it is this imperfection that makes the moon complete
in a strange, lonely way.

The moon shifts its gaze over the single person lying on
the single bed.
Said girl tosses and turns within the limited area
of her narrow resting space
trying to find a comfortable position to curl in,
just like every other night.

Not quite asleep,
she notices the dark shapes of her window grill
sprayed across her bed.

Turning to find the source of bright light in the darkness,
her eyes met with the ember gleam of the everchanging globe in the sky.
Shining in the shadows of her bedroom,
the girl's dark irises reflected the silent shine of the moon.

There is something missing, in the depth of her soul
shown through her eyes,
mirrored in the moon up high.

She understands this incompletion of hers.

And by that, she becomes more of a whole
in a way that no one,
but the lone moon in the dark night sky
can understand.