Staring at the Spaces

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Between the stars helps me to fathom
how dark her world is
but it’s like not
as I have not remembered
the stars that lit our past:
and as we fly deeper into the
recesses of this inky black bowl
littered with this glitter (love)
I can’t find anything that resembles her more
than this stark, white
moon, a hanging marble
until I realize,
I am her lunar eclipse
creating this void?
or filling her black and blue sky
with sunlight, liquid color
to block out the
memories (bruises)

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