The day brings warmth, the night brings quiet. The sun illuminates others, the moon shines for herself. This mutual incompatibility is at the crux of their relationship. One rises while the other sets. The moon avoids the sun as the brilliance of his rays lays her imperfections bare. She thrives in the night, her glow just soft enough to highlight her mystique. The sun fears the dark. The primordial blackness is antithetical to his being. Its avatar, the moon, taunts him. He views the pale white orb as the dark’s mockery of his shine. A mere imitation of his light with not even half his brilliance. And yet they are drawn to each other. _Could her hazy glow complement mine? _He wonders. _Could_ _his blinding light wash me away? _She hopes. And so they dance, skirting past each other in cycles. Their mutual apprehension undercut by their mutual attraction that slowly blooms each time they cross. Feelings stir after each brief encounter, leaving both sun and moon to lie in wait and dream of dusk.