vi. Affections of Celeste

Who is She that may best

the love made by celestial

bodies?

The clime of Gaia’s

bosom, as She rains upon

me

As if  were the cleanse the

exponential daily weariness

 

As mother moon rests,

watching over, in Her

states ordained She officiates

this communion

 

A cosmos echoes as I

rest my head, the mortal

passion met by her moist

hands through my jagged hair

Cooling the heated-head, blowing upon

that face, spoons me as i rest upon my bed.

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