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a song to the moon
every night I try to imagine how the moon dances.
does she know that the sky needs the dusk's embrace for her to appear?
I want to ask her,
“Does it get lonely up there?”
because sometimes the sand-like stars aren't enough
just like how certain things in this world could not keep the sadness at bay
where these things, like the tide,
and you don't know if you should get used to smiling everyday.
you want to.
but you're fearful of the waves suddenly stopping,
when peace becomes an equinox until the day disappears in full
and you can't tell your eyes anymore to stop screaming.
See, this is how the moon sometimes amazes me;
the way she can disappear ad interim
and come back when she's whole again.
I wish I could be like that.
be whole again.
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