You have said what needed to be said, and honorably. The moon is seven-eighths full.
A thick, flat cloud hangs like a painting over the rooftops.
The stars have come out.
Hold to the truth and speak it. You'll find liberation there.
The apology comes so late.
Even the fading stars are still shining.
Surely it's not a coincidence that as you prioritize yourself, other people care too.
Orion cinches his belt. He aims.
