Off the record

“I’m trying to think, don’t confuse me with facts.”
― Plato


He was the Sun. She was the Moon.

“How’s it hanging, bae? Let’s chill at noon!”

“I’m good, but thanks for asking. And, hey! You ‘hot!

Wouldja come over to land at my spot?”

So drop-dead gorgeous did she seem to him first!

Such a lit Moon was she that he quenched all his thirst.

Not only was gentle the Sun but also damn sweet.

There you go! A day and night meet!

Curves of the Moon would enchant with the shape;

rays of the Sun kept embracing with grace.

Both were jonesing to find ‘comfort zone

having being jeopardized by the roam.

Where was it ‘they were planning to go?

Where eye-catching great lakes shimmer and glow!

So they were! Presumably, dashing in ‘hot, steamy way?

Bear with me. Be that as it may, it’s gonna be saga.

Anyway. “How about the dark side of hers?

I should think it has no icing.

If so, why to provide for its lightening?”

insinuated the Sun, turning down the fun.

Meanwhile, the Moon didn’t crash at the dawn –

since lover was waiting, she set off alone.

Insane with her courage, she covered the Sun and caused

‘total solar eclipse, falling under the ban.

Whatever, the Sun didn’t open his arms.

He claimed to black out, he quitted, he ran.

Never before had there been ‘spots on the Sun.

Only by creeping is Sol now watching his hun.

Silently missed, the Luna is getting dissed;

The Sun is moonwalking and pleading the Fifth.

So keep it off the record, please.

Not every fairy tale is fairy’s, particularly this



By Lana M. ‘Rochel