deepundergroundpoetry.com
Untitled
The curvature of the Earth is greater than its distance from the moon.
Looking at its reflected brilliance, I can almost hear your gentle breathing in the next room.
Moonbeams spill onto the bed we shared, while miles arc dispassionately toward you.
If the miles, in all their coolness, separate us, let the moon bind us.
Looking at its reflected brilliance, I can almost hear your gentle breathing in the next room.
Moonbeams spill onto the bed we shared, while miles arc dispassionately toward you.
If the miles, in all their coolness, separate us, let the moon bind us.
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