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Apr 2015
before the sun falls
before the black descends
before the stars shine like broken glass

sprint across the sky before the moon comes to wake
before the arch of the crescent glistens like a blade

and when you reach the finish line lean forward towards the light of the setting sun and hide
pull a vail of fluorescence from a
writer's lamp
and warm your throat with *****
Mo Rojas
Written by
Mo Rojas  Atlanta
(Atlanta)   
357
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