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Hung the Moon

I long for the euphoria of your kiss
the panacea of your arms
the times when we would sit so close together
our cheeks touched
and I could feel you breathing
could feel your lungs
expand contract
swell deflate
as our ribs knocked eachother
I built you balconies, mansions, castles,
cities of stars and clouds
You left me in the basement of one of my celestial monuments
with only shards of my sanguine naiveté
But if I just wait long enough
you’ll stumble back down the stairs
the skin peeling off your sunburned nose and your eyes hazy from lack of sleep
maybe I’ll let you count my freckles one more time
While we sit under the blank sky and
hang out the stars together

10 June 2000