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Our wizened kismet is total exhaustion
Our headroom, now the coffin, holds in-
Our memories that die so often
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I trace the stars on your skin
Trail my roughened fingertips
Through the patterns in your constellations.
An astronaut to search your spiraling star system
I map your every region in height, depth, breadth,
Every atom to be thoroughly examined
Until a single touch from me
Sets to a pink blush your galaxy