solemn and reverent,
we speak.
our eyes, touch.
our hands fumble.
is this what you call love?
the dark springs,
the warm falls.
our warmth fades.
our skin became like prunes.
desolation, and pity
shot the stars down.
my collar bone,
collected the stars.
feeding them; with my
crocodile tears.
during the mid-night,
we swam in the lake.
with all beauty
your silver voice,
fills the moon with color.
tall grass, and dry days.
we communicate.
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