i found constellations painted on your back.
search for me in autumn wildernesses
my lips stained of wine
from the cellar of your heart!
clouds congeal into a single terrestrial object;
flowing newness and a hard-earned obscurity.
eternalities
falling between my fire-eyes.
but no distractions can pull us from our slumber
where music penetrates our physicalities
and herringbone patterns are etched into our skin.
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