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Oct 2015
Dance with the moon, she loves you.
She tries her best to be there, even
through clouds she tries to shine, and
even your own shadow, she defies.

A planet’s symphony is no duet;
no static, empty, void is God’s canvas.
Varied and mingled attractions entwine it,
gently arching nebula hue and define us.

Oh, how your electric eyes regale me.
My spine tingles with the chatter of my synapses.
innervated, and abuzz with love, I stutter
“maybe the planets- were
put up for me- and you”

Oh, i’m free falling now,
away from earth and
up towards you.

Gasp
for air
ask
for you.

But the vacuum holds no reply.
My nerves like circuits, wires,
fray and spark, snatched from
my body, in orbit’s speedy,
breathless arc.
Dead Poet's Manifesto
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