Blue moon

The moon was yellow tonight, hanging amongst the roofs, and you were not here. I've seen the stars above, small and cold over the black satin of the sky, and you were not here. The silent and insomniac night will end in a few hours, and you will not be here. And I'll be sleeping. Who knows? Maybe dreaming about you. And you will not be here.

But I saw you tonight. You were so beautiful. We spoke, and laugh, and I didn't care about the moon, or the stars, or the night. Now, here, alone, watching how the night goes by, I need to find again my way to myself, like a small child lost in the forest.

Now the moon seems a little bit bluer.