I sat under you tonight. I sat in the blue dip that stretched all the way to earth. I reached up to hold you, but my arms weren't quite long enough to touch.
My niece thinks there are two of you. One at her house and one at mine. The moon is big at mine tonight she says, you must come over and see.
I explain to her that you are just one, but she tends to disagree.
She wants you all to herself, her own craters to run in, her own light to catch through the window and hold in her hand as she sleeps.
I tell her we will have liquid moon in teacups at her party and that our cakes will be made from the soft, yellow crust.
She says she can see you smiling.
I know its her reflection looking back.