Light of the Moon

I reach my arm across the tangled place
Hand meets day's bristles gently on your face
Through moonlit window age does not seem clear
Knarled fingers, age spots almost disappear
Your kiss is light, my hand falls to your chest
You fold it, lay it back and then we rest
With sun that rises, harsher than the night
I see that time indeed did not take flight
It's hard to think we've spent these years so soon
If choosing light, I'd surely pick the moon