The moon.
Gleaming in her glares.
Beaming through our skin, burning throughout the night.
In a glazed bath she foretold our thoughts.
Beautiful in her reflection.
We were taken back by her light.
A withered night brightened, by her twisted, cratered sight.
Fake flowers finally blossomed.
-
April.2.2012
Ready for the spring. Finally had the chance to catch up with my dreams.
Up at 7am tomorrow for an English course.
Cant complain.
To all a good night.
Oh a foe
Oh you foe
Towards the skies we shall go.
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