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Black and Blue MAG
I woke up to find galaxies dotting my skin.
I imagine that it’s the night leaving its mark
to remind me of what I am,
Or perhaps the universe’s way of saying that
it has not forgotten my sin.
Is it so wrong of me to dream of you under
starry skies late at night?
I sometimes wonder why you don’t create
your own constellations;
You ask permission for a taste of what should be your right.
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