The things closest to the moons soul
Pearls
Poetry
Tears
On nights so clear there is no room for jewelry or ink
Just crying
Quarried dreams of water
Vacuum packed
From unemptiable
Childhood
Left to feed the stars
As if morning
had been waiting all along
For birds to hurl song
Pearls
Poetry
Tears
On nights so clear there is no room for jewelry or ink
Just crying
Quarried dreams of water
Vacuum packed
From unemptiable
Childhood
Left to feed the stars
As if morning
had been waiting all along
For birds to hurl song
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