Ahead, equal parts
sky and earth, moving softly;
beneath my feet, dirt.
About the Creator
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I Blame You, Moon
Empress of twilight and beyond, you’ve outstayed your welcome. Come alone, I asked you, yet you brought the night– libertine, fluid, and turbulent, swirling eddies through my voids, which were not for its blackness to fill. My silences were not your invitations.
By Teresa Rentonabout 21 hours ago in Poets
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