You ask me to write
Of the moon and the stars
And all I can think of is
Those walks we took in the midnight bazaars
Of a town that came alive
Only when the skies were drenched in black
And among the spices
And the carpets, we found that silly knick knack
An unremarkable object that cost us a long chat
And all the small change we had in our pockets
And remember where we bought
Those cheap silver coloured star shaped lockets
I wonder where mine lies
That locket, the bazaar, the night
I forget what we talked of...
In the shadows, when we hid from the moonlight.