msquared's picture


[Dactylic trimeter, bitches! Awwww, yeah!]

When the night spirals our symmetry
And the stars swallow our history
Leaving us only with passions too
Bright for the night in its raven hue

We’ll leave behind our youth’s mysteries
Claim the fruit of our curves’ harmonies
Heavenly bodies torn from the sky
Our new astronomy birthed in sighs

Galaxies will fear our province bright

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