He Watches

Pure sadness here, false gladness more.
You crossed my path, then through my door
to bring me words of wistful waiting
knowing that our hearts are skating
'round the issue. Hand-in-hand we hold
the conversation as cold
as we possibly can
so as not to disrupt the man
in the moon who watches our dance.
There is more heartbreak than romance,
as trained upon our tearful faces,
through the window he traces
our hopeful, not-forever goodbye
built on a loving little lie.