how pale turns moon
when your eyelids close
and your servant, i, can see you dreaming–
within subtled twitch
your lips turn rose
and left am i,
the startled spy upon your ceiling
how pale turns moon
when your eyelids close
and your servant, i, can see you dreaming–
within subtled twitch
your lips turn rose
and left am i,
the startled spy upon your ceiling
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