i feel the moonshine
reaching out to my veins,
veins made of stardust and universe-magic
oh the moon, the cheese-holed moon,
you are magic
oh my sweet, silver-mist moon,
what a sweet child you are of this enormous black, star-speckled void
how you reach your little-moon-beams to the sun,
the planet of warmth and summer
isn't that just,
true love?
the sun and the moon
YOU ARE READING
Poppyseed
Poetry"Do you know how actually you are a flower? In the middle of its blooming?"
