The coldness of moonbeams fades with sunrise

For the last forty years, I have been playing `the moon´,
waxing bright and luminous
(at times - though at other times waning till all light goes for a while).
But the light has not been my own - simply the reflected warmth and energy of another.

I never knew how to love and live as the Sun.
My wife did - and I enjoyed basking in the warmth she gave to me.
Swapping love for affection, season upon season, became the almanac.

Moon like, I flaunted my bright face
flirting with the distant stars,
too distant to engulf me in their cosmic conflagrations.

One day, by chance, two orbits intersected.
From the south, came a contact via the Internet.
A new person, new woman, the herald of a new life.
A close encounter of the first, second, third and every kind.

I feel transformed:
from a reflective body, to being a bright twin star.
Sucked out of orbit,
we circle each other like two fires in tango.
Dancing in desire, whilst sadly older systems subside ...

Moonlit by mind, I still feel the chill of only moonbeams.