as the sky was beginning its syncing to our eyes,
its lunar declination beginning to explore
our faces, your face no more lighter
than the moon itself - through chimes of the
stars' gleaming, your ears perked up
just as the sky grew into different shades
of violet and red, orange in spots and grey
but never blue and the depths of the pulsing clouds
drifting overhead entrapped our gazes,
this night, still blooming, was ours
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