But is it too late…or too soon.
I’ve sealed my fate in the depths of your eyes, the moon. The stars.
The scars I carry, my Mars temperatured body revolves.
Closer to the death of cold space than to the searing sun that passions envelope celestial, encompassing love that even the Sun can’t evaporate in measure to the former.
Infinitesimal speck that I am beats with heart that can felt/heard resoundingly loud and throughout the winds and vacuum of the cosmos…wishing by the certain bodies in motion
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