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Everyone swooned at the orange moon
Although it knew, it didn’t own, the glow
Yet shined for everyone alike
A celestial force, in the starry sky

As the night grew
The moon soared in the sky
It seemed to orbit with ease
The orange moon, at peace
For its glow, it owed to the sun

It didn’t mind changing attires
Through phases, thinning, gaining, losing the curves
but always admired and enjoyed the run
Orbiting around the sun
Its flaws camouflaged
Controlling
the language
Controlling
the power
Defining
tomorrow
With words
of today

Converting
the juncture
Converting
the instant
Defining
the moment
With all
that you say

Blessing
your loved ones
Blessing
your enemies
Cursing
the liars
Redeeming
the lost

Asking
new questions
Asking
for answers
Loving
the value
In spite of
— the cost

(Dreamsleep: August, 2025)
"I looked at him like he was my forever,
not knowing he was already turning into a memory.
I closed my eyes, hoping to sleep—
but it hit me like a punch:
I was already gone.
Already dead."

He found someone new,
someone better—
someone he now looks at
like I once looked at him:
like forever.

His love moved on.
Mine… stayed buried.

Seeing him smile again
healed something in me—
but not enough to put into words.
Not enough to write.

"deserved to be someone’s forever too. And I still do."
to merge, equate, blend to send
a misguided equality in which
there is no equity truly, but a
notion that what I see is my truth,
& what you see, well, you imagine it,
to be truly…too

neither black or white deemed colors, (1),
yet we con~flate them to be so, naming
them all colors, or the color of light,
which changes unceasingly, ergo, again,
all colors

upon a moments thought, conflating is:
no matter what you perceive, always believe
it is all colors

of conflated equanimity
<>
off to bed
until the nighttime sheds mev its whispered words and cries
soto voce, write it wright it right it!
11:10pm Tues Aug 5
(1)
In the realm of physics, black and white are not typically considered colors. White is the presence of all colors of light, while black is the absence of light. However, in art and design, they are often treated as colors, particularly when discussing pigments or shades.
a croissant tastes the same flying over the Alps
sweat is sweat no matter what tram you take, it's so humane
on a tshirt from Asia a capitalist mind has written "Hit me hard and soft"  
let's heat the hit
clouds are dreamed of beneath the trees  
a young man takes a photo of an old woman having breakfast sur la Cote d'Azur
yeah, something hits me hard,  a contrast so sharp
black and white infuse  the blueness of air
the blackness of misery,  the whiteness of glamour

I'd better guard  the sea not to throw her abyss into my mind
to be of some use
some purpose

to let be
the silence

fruit to nourish
words of service.
ninety mile an hour winds
garden stripped and ravaged

the eight sentinels, Sycamores
ragged and torn

all the red Fuchia flowers
gone

hardly any Bee food
left

there will be starvation
this winter.
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