Moon’s Étude

By | 15 September 2022

Pink balloon? Clewed wool?
Unsmooth supper plate?

Sinker of cliché
in cumulous seas.

I loose jewelleries,
unlike Saturn, a

gold-fattened linger
-er. ‘Monsieur Aloof!’

Again, you finger
-point. ‘Murderer!’ Oof.

‘When you’re full, you’re full
of yourself!’ you blaze.

I routinely skate
closer to the prot

-ostars. I am not
going through a phase.

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