She

Maybe she has never seen a sunset alone, alone with herself, alone in her absence from everyone.
Perhaps she has never looked for something lost among the leaves on the road where they pass, all those who, when you want to see the night fall, burst into their abyss of misunderstood loneliness.
People are like that!
Air, earth, water, fire.
Abundant in all environments
There is nothing that does not accompany you, although you are always alone.
Someone always looks at the sky.
Sometimes you seek to go out and walk for hours to ignore what binds you to that world full of multidirectional people, people who seek inert company in things that do not understand death, much less life.
You will never see the moon more beautiful than today.
Even if black clouds fall from the sky, there will always be movement, nothing is ever completely still, someone will always be looking at it from another side.
And she will never be alone even if she tries to get away, there will always be a speck of dust, a drizzle, a breeze, a campfire illuminating the loneliness that you think overwhelms her.
There will always be someone who thinks of her in all directions, it will be the Path of someone looking for company.
You will never see the moon as beautiful as now.
She will always be the moon in her eternal and beautiful solitude.