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Oct 2018
A yellow converse tied securely to my left foot
A purple converse tied securely to my right foot
Dangle on the sharp edge of the moon facing the flickering side of the sun
His hands are turning to stone
Scaling up his arms grows the shards of unsung remarks
Branded by the markings of a comprehend-er
And not that of a creator
Signified by
a Turnover of the wrist
To reveal
Calloused palms scarring over worn ambitions
And as the her face turns away
All at once  
She rounds the corner of a brick wall
The sun rotates to be unseen behind Venus
Her body is planets away - it seems
But there is a light that never goes out
For in the years to follow
Even in shadows her memory will glow
Lighting my face to varying degrees
Dependent upon the luna(r)cy of my mind
Matthew Sutton
Written by
Matthew Sutton  21/M
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