...
You're cupping embers
in antique palms
that were meant
to harvest moonlight.
Raindrops ghost over earth's skin
nebula clouds map universal eyes,
and you're just a masterpiece
who is best friends with time.
Don't let those pianos play you,
serenade and masquerade you
because we all seem to
fall in love with the right music,
and all the wrong notes.
That friend lit a fire in your room,
seven embers destroying
unfamiliar wallpaper.
You burnt your dream catcher,
to cinders and charcoal;
Now you pray for sunlight,
all you've got is a lonely candle's flame.
But from the nightmares and windowsill,
moonlight slipped through
and in your palms
you held
my words.
Fire doesn't last forever, Leonie.
...
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