daughter of the moon

little day breaks
through a shift
a paper smile
tears closely at the edges
bright
sun danced golden hair
streams silvery bright
neon frescos dot the city lines
mall entrances
hall entrances
there is no where
there are no traces
where I don’t see her

she is the last daughter of the moon
and I long to dance sublimely
under her stars.

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One thought on “daughter of the moon”

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