Let us go to the mountains up
where the air is kissed by nothing
but the sun.
The moon presides there. Inviting
passionate children
to match
peaking waves at night.
I'll come with a pail of tears,
long promised me
for diamonds. And when
I leave, I'll have them. And in your hair.
Reason for writing:
Don't you think that ought to speak for itself?
Birth sign: Not entered
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