Earth (or Sunrises)
A note on potential
one
Dear Miss Cigarette Love,
queen of the extended conversation
mother of my love for poison,
searcher of truth,
finder of self.
In the sunrise
I saw potential.
Two
Dear Miss Dark Eyes,
lover of my whispered words,
and my screaming syllables.
Giver of euphony,
protector of my mind.
When I wake up beside you,
and the sunrise hits your perfect skin,
I feel the reality of the Earth spinning
and shifting beneath my feet.
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