Radio Silence
If I tiptoe close to the water's edge
I can see myself in the mirror
The moon is there, too, and so are the stars
But they distort with the night's solemn breeze
I've counted the freckles that dot my nose
- or at least the ones that I think should -
But each night, I get a different number
And each night, the moon grows duller
Sometimes I pinch the moon with my fingers
To try and hold her in place
I squeeze and squeeze, and imagine her bursting-
One million stars escaping into the night
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