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celestial whisky blues (Remove filter)

the destruction of small ideas

 

we three sit in syzygy

picking faults

parsing each sentence

you, the celestial centre

serene when seen from space

but roiling and folding on the surface

violent and beautiful

under heavy layers of make up

mascara landslides and fuck me red lips

me, the interloper

a mere satellite to your turbulent beauty

hoping your gravitational pull

will hook me in

and...

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living with addictioncelestial whisky blues

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