blame it on caravaggio

Do you remember when you were a child

and your mother kept telling you

“Don’t look directly at the sun or you will go blind.”

?

Well, you are the sun.

And I keep looking, looking, looking,

Until my eyes burn and tears fall down my cheeks,

But I do not close my eyes.

You burn so brightly I can still see you clearly behind my eyelids when my night falls because I live for your light and I cannot let you go, and even if I will turn blind I want you to be the last thing I’ll ever see, your hand clasped in mine.

A love letter to you from the Moon, from Dionysus, from Grantaire.