

ReverieI. They say every woman is a piece of the moon, but I want the sun.Reverie
Dear Apollo, explain to me why you gave up
clear mornings for the shadowy future. And I’ll make you wish you hadn’t burned a time before.
Because he’s still sleeping, turned towards the window, the thick blinds cracking with sunlight in the early dawn. The navy sheets his royal dress, the rays his glory crown.
I wake up next to a god on Sunday morning, hands still dirty from the night before.
II. But when I sleep, I dream of rhyming big words Building them on
miedo azul
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