Mistresses of the moon, decadent like stars,
temptresses made of the galaxies.
O, my sapphic heart cries for you,
for your hearts to match mine.
Made of the star dust,
and of the atmospheric blue silks,
my soul forever belongs to their endless nights.
Sep 8, 2015
Sep 8, 2015 at 8:48 PM UTC
Mistresses of the moon, decadent like stars,
temptresses made of the galaxies.
O, my sapphic heart cries for you,
for your hearts to match mine.
Made of the star dust,
and of the atmospheric blue silks,
my soul forever belongs to their endless nights.
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