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Madison Sep 2018
In backs of cars

Lips form stars

And then

Entire constellations.

You burn bright

Blinking satellite

And disrupt

My concentration.

Your hands cast light

Bleed through the night

And the sun himself

Envies you.

Galaxies swoon

And you're loved by the moon

But she doesn't want you as badly

As I do.

Under this black sky

My stars die

And my heart cries

Out for more.

You have me moon-struck

Guess that's my luck

Just like the planets' alignments

Swore.
Another writing exercise, this time in focused imagery.

— The End —