Dream Stars
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This opalescent symphonic drop
Holds my chilled core tightly.
It slices my soul eerily.
In a cluster of broken gems
The purity of the situation is shattered.
My heuristics have black blood.
I turn frozen words into stone metaphors.
It is necessary to line up stimulating techniques.
It's like looking into the middle of a slumbering dream.
Dull stars and scattered dust.
To see his sleepy dreams.
In the place of scattered debris.
On a dark night with no moon or stars.
Written: January 27, 2023
Copyright © Sotto Poet | Year Posted 2023
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