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It's a poem about the f*cking moon, idk anymore. 

The moon smiled; it was almost time. She stretched and flexed, laying down closer to the horizon for her best, most delicious angle. Any second. She could almost feel the warmth before he crested. She shuddered in anticipation. Slowly, so agonizingly slowly, the first tendrils of his rays peaked over the mountains to the east. […]

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Dreams That Speak to the Sad Girl

A Poem

Dusk. A cliff. Below: clouds, a river of them Flowing between The valley of my heart. The sun sunk beneath The red cotton wisps. Is this A river of blood Or the river of souls? I’m turning. Turning. A whirlwind unpinned and flipped Inside out. behind these irises I feel it pick me up. Catapult […]

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