Cerise Posted February 9, 2006 Share Posted February 9, 2006 Ziggy's Stardust Light from an ugly moon strains and slides through the cracks in my ceiling, making the bare walls of my room turn a sickly shade of pale. My raised fist clenches around its swollen fullness, grasps, blots out the moon. I have blotted out the moon. A glowing handful of rock and dirt and dust. It's just a star, really. Some burning chunk of space leavings spinning through the ink-spilled sky. It's only stars falling white- ash burnt dust into my eyes, making them tear and sweat. It's only stars in my chest, heating my lungs until I can only choke out silvery grains of crushed stone, coughing, breathing in light and flame. Just stars in my chest, writhing with a new pulse that echoes at my wrists and beats time in my head. I'm holding the moon. There are stars in my chest. I'm holding the moon. How can I let go? Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Fweethawt Posted February 9, 2006 Share Posted February 9, 2006 ...... ? Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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