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A New Moon
If the paint covering our walls could talk
they’d speak in orange tongues
Of moons engulfing the sun
blanketing bodies each time they multiplied to become one
They would talk of the times we’d feed breakfast in bed
And your loving nature
Which encompassed all of it
It would tell of slow dances,
And sloppy sweet serenades
It would tell of passionate romances
Hiding under covers for days
If they really spoke of [...]
