I stayed up and had a chat with the man in the moon last night. He whispered your name, and I stared at him because he's not supposed to know that. But the thing about the man in the moon is that he knows everything--the things I tell him and the things I don't, the things I show him and the things I hide. He knows me all too well, all too willingly.
He knows me the way I wish I knew you. . .
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