Quelque chose about friendships

And gratitude. Évidemment.

She wore the moon.

On her neck,

On her wrist,

In labradorite,

In amethyst,

In mother of pearl.

She wore the moon.

He had the sun in him.

In the shadow of Justice,

Hiding behind

The Jester,

Warming it up

For the Lovers.

He had the sun in him.

In a very old fashioned way,

They talked books.

They discussed gods.

They spoke the language

Of myths,

Quoting the words,

Remembering voices.

The moon relaxed

Feeling no pressure

Of the emperor,

Noticing in surprise

How the Hierophant

Fell silent

Watching the conversation flow.

And it flowed.

Changing

Transforming

Metamorphosing

Back and forth

Gradually

Softly.

That's how,

By listening

And talking,

Nurtured by sincerety,

The friendship

Blooms

And grows stronger.

That's the beauty of it,

N'est ce pas?)