📚Seven moons📖 +01

📚Seven moons📖

There are nights that are made of my arms

and a silence common to violets

and there are seven moons that are seven strokes

seven nights that were never made

There are nights that we take to the waist

like a belt of big butterflies.

And a bloody streak in our dark flesh

from a sword to a comet's sheath.

There are nights that leave us behind

tangled up in our disenchantment

and white swans that are only the same

to the furthest wave of your song.

There are nights that take us where

the ghost of us is closer:

and it is always our voice that answers us

and only our name was right.