No, YOU'RE the hero

by steadfast twilight

I saw the moon and saved it from its black sheet.
I cradled it so delicately in my palm.
Slowly raising it up to my mouth, I pondered what it would taste like.
It did not taste like cheese, but of wonder, amazement, and hope.
As I placed the half-eaten moon back into its black fortress I thanked the moon.
"You're welcome, ever so," it replied.
And I drifted back into the netherlands of my yellow pillow.