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She raises her glass of red To the moon. Each mirror the other. Like lake surfaces; The laughing eyes of old People together, and Other things that shine. Her friend since forever. A mother; she holds galaxies In her heart, supernovas within. The moon is her only witness. And I.
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Nov 2, 2017
Nov 2, 2017 at 6:24 PM UTC
The Laughing Eyes of Old People
She raises her glass of red To the moon. Each mirror the other. Like lake surfaces; The laughing eyes of old People together, and Other things that shine. Her friend since forever. A mother; she holds galaxies In her heart, supernovas within. The moon is her only witness. And I.
sgholter
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Nov 2, 2017
Nov 2, 2017 at 6:24 PM UTC
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