The fire dreams in its iron bed, cozy in the metal that glows. Her flames transform the wood into the most transient of beauties, hot ribbons of light. There are times it sparks, as if it wanted more than one crazy way to dance, as if it needs to leap, to fly, willing to land where it may.
Answer:
Carmen, I hope you'll send me a postcard when you're in Japan.
Explanation:
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I'm pretty sure it would be in the waning gibbous phase with what you described. Not completly full but not a half-moon. Waning moons get smaller and smaller until a new moon. Then it gets bigger an bigger. theese are called Waxing moons.