In which the hourglass was stoppered
Its sand on the beach we frolicked on
Spinning wildly, blissfully drunk on life
The very sky stretching its crows’ feet
In the ascent of the early crescent moon
In the warm afterglow of happiness
In the coruscant sea, fading sky
I have never felt more alive
In the constant babbling of the breeze
In the salty caress of the sea
In which you are my guiding star
We dream to be wayward souls
We had planned to spend our sand
Counting the escorts of the moon
And here I fancy the moon was envious
For it was missing all of its stars
And here we are, although given where we are
We were better off counting our scars
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