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Someone Owes You a Tax Break

If heaven could compensate,
then maybe I wouldn’t need
to spend all this time
justifying the way the stars
slip from the sky
when you’re looking
towards their light to guide you,
or how the sea spills
across your brow
to form salt-saturated tears
in your sea glass eyes
when you’re so determined
to see clearly.

Mother’s God must have miscalculated
when he created you,
because you were meant to shine
so brightly

but he gave you to a world
that has practice in eclipsing.





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