I sensed that you needed a gesture, a sign, an effort. 

You needed a motion, a massive, magnanimous movement, that all the little ones couldn’t provide. 

You needed a sweeping, soaring, sizable display, to make your heart swoon.

It had to be considerate, calculable, and colossal in scope. 

So I struggled, and strived, and stretched myself to my very limits.  I crawled, and scrambled, and lunged up the highest peak.

I reached up towards the dark, black, star-flecked canopy and took hold. 

I wrenched, and yanked, and pulled down the night for you, so you could have more of the sun.

But the brilliance was too much, the radiance too bright, and the persistent rays too piercing for you to enjoy.

The great gesture became a burden, a weight, an oppression. You longed for the little things, the small, and the simple efforts.

But I had employed, exerted, and exhausted myself with the grand display. 

I had no energy for the minute, tiny, and little gestures.

You stood over me as I lay shivering, quaking, and aching on the ground. The pieces of cold, harsh, ebony night still clenched in my hands, as the sun warmed your back.

And you found yourself, with no further use of me.

Humbly yours,

J