Imaginings of the Moon

Among the rooftops we waited. The sky was clear and only the full moon was strong enough to make its presence in the night sky. The stars that dotted the darkness were actually red bulbs from buildings announcing their height or yellow and white windows radiating various intensities of warmth from far away.

We held each other not saying a word, close enough to hear each other's breathing and nothing else so that the city below could have been an ocean ebbing and flowing with our breaths which were slow and smelled sweet. The sky above was a carpet of blue-black silk threads. The moon shone proud and serene as though it had invented this scene. I remember wondering if it was the moon that thought us up.