the harvest moon is dripping orange glue onto the fields it smothers the wheat and mice it smells like melons and sounds like paint as the orange glue drips, drips, drips from the bloated harvest moon struggling to lift itself across the glitter-peppered sky the gluey moon melts its heart splatting and splattering pulling the weight of the tides rolling, dripping slowly rising stern and expressionless conquering the nightBirth sign: Virgo
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