Sweet to your lips , the nectar of the stars for we are in our bodies because of earthy souls that gaze into a reflective pool higher than the veil of day to pierce to the stars, till evening rest upon our weary bones and we take these stars as sweet nectar filling in what modern distraction has eroded away.
Every moment beneath a sheltering tree, swaying count of a breeze that comes from a faraway canopy. A stream has a beginning branching forth roiling under aquamarine skies. Eyes close to an inward gusty sense once forgotten, while the face side of dream cools. As right as the tepid breeze touches the other side of knowing .
Share a clue to the scent of longing like a sky without a moon for awhile, shows itself with the turning of earth.
Moth come fly in my light. Your wings pulse with the shimmering stars.
Pick a reflection of a star from your wings and place it inside your thought then sip the nectar of my love.
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