Moonlight Whitewash Minichu
The moon inclines in the trees
To walk her dreams against the boughs,
A fade on her full body's beams
Where the leaves wiggle in gold—
Now with miffed sky's dizzying slight;
Then jumble on craters, silver mold
Different eyes
Long fright
Nights
The moon inclines in the trees—
Now with miffed sky's dizzying slight,
Nights
Copyright © Paige Hind | Year Posted 2024
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