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Aug 20
The moon melts into my trembling hand
a lantern dripping liquid stardust.
Stars hiccup slow, spilling galaxies
across my tongue like sparkling syrup.
My feet dissolve into comet tails,
and gravity forgets its name,
letting me float sideways through syrupy nebulae,
where hiccups are constellations
and the night hums a dizzy lullaby.
Pho
Written by
Pho  26/F/NZ
(26/F/NZ)   
  296
     Nick, Lynn Stillman, Nasus and Crow
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