To grow in the moonlight
whispered the purple breeze,
daunting its profundity
in a lilac lilt,
makes for the most sensitive
skin, the thinnest rays
wasted across barren lands.
A tiny trio of skylights
show how syllables
need less volume
when speaking in
moonshadows
across open floors.
Grey becomes more than shade
when the pale moon
was more than enough
to still feel
growing pains.
Artwork by Ohara Koson [Public domain].
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