moon boy

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Holding starlight

Like a candelabra;

I am the Victorian moon boy.

Burns on my fingertips are worth it

To witness the radiant beams on your face.

You are the universe's favorite view,

Tiptoeing through the milky way.

Hands clasped tightly behind your back,

Shoulder blades so close they could kiss,

And what a beautiful being they'd create.

Planetary love amongst the commoners;

Holding my telescope in my right hand,

The left clutching my heart.

I watch you dance on Saturn's rings,

And I finally understand spirituality.

We are bound together,

Tethered by mystical wonder,

And I've never felt so grateful for a heartbeat.

Galileo couldn't hold a candle to this

Burning flame of desire

Nor do I believe I am worthy.

But it has been granted to me regardless,

And I will hold this gratitude

Until flowers are grasped in my hands,

And I am lowered into the ground.

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