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Nightlove MAG
In the
bleeding sky, a
slicing moon rises up
over the bandaging clouds. I
feel them
enter
my bruised body.
The night will heal me if
I bring it all inside my lungs.
And if
I move
at all, my ribs
will tear through my skin. It
is stretched so far because to hold
the whole
night sky,
I must be a
tight container. As the
dark hours fix my broken life,
I will
win back
the beautiful
love I have since lost. She
will return to my arms where she
belongs.
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