The Woman in the Moon always shines facing away
With sorrow dripping from the end of her crescent
A silent disparity hiding in each crater
The eloquence of a thousand phases blurred at her edges
She sings softly to me of why she cares
And all I can do is stare
She comes to me and asks me why -
If I can see such wonder in her why do I see none in I
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Preservation
PoésiePoetry Collection on preservering in love, sorrow, trauma, and desire
