I begin my story in the middle of things:
The crepuscular Sun, in its incestuous mood
Is ready to impregnate the virgin Night.
And with a voyeuristic interest, I witness:

Timid hands of blue and orange entwine,
Sky hides its bosom with a quilt of clouds,
Frequently forming outlines of erotic shapes,
Coy moans reverberate and cover all life.

Birds, exasperated, flock to their nests,
Frightened by their amorous arrangement.
Nocturnal beings spectators, astonished,
Oblivious to the beginning of a feral scheme.

Wind ruffles Sky’s dazzling locks, letting loose
An array of splitting stars, my companions.
The Sun dwells its arms as it goes down,
Sinking in the ecstasy of a rabid love.

To my delight, the incipient Night
Dominates the Light with its carnal lure.
Consummating in an act of perfection,
Give birth to me, their child, the Moon.