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Take Out

Can I have the moon to go?

Dimly lit chamber holds the soul

Empty appetite leaves one whole

Gaze into the stars

With less luster than her eyes

Admire from afar

Feel further than the sky is

A smile is

Sweet temperament

Bitter torment

Curt silence

Cute demeanor

A seance

A ghost, to have seen her

More seasoned memories

That make me a believer

In wishing on fallen stars

© The Sad Owl

Categories: poetry Prose

Tagged as:

The Sad Owl

I'm just here. Until I'm not.

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