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Last night,
when I closed my eyes,
I saw the moon
so full and so bright.
I fell asleep smiling.
my heart’s so fragile;
i’m afraid to give it away,

all that’s left of me is
a sarcastic personality,
and even that is
starting to fade.
What would happen if the moon leaked?
Would there be a luminous canal
that flowed with moon milk?
Would we be able to bathe in
a shimmering pool of silver?
I used to read your poems
but lately you don't write
you're silent and aloof
you know that isn't right.
You can't close a door once opened
you can't abolish all your dreams
you're a poet of the heart
mustn't fall apart at the seams.
Say what you can in words
they speak the message true
spoken from the heart
the poems will see you through.
A hermit's not your style
a recluse, you are not
never give up writing
of things that you've been taught.
I used to read your poems
I'd read them once again
if you would send them out
(this one's from a poet friend)
Sometimes being with you
Felt like the universe was fighting
For us to be together.

Sometimes it was too strong
And the way we were pulled in
Was too strange to be coincidence. 

But at every turn
We slapped it in the face.

Even now, I still feel that pull towards you.
And I'm not sure
I ever want it to stop.
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