turpitude

Forgive me this vice, of want from afar.

It’s funny how you see the sun without suffering its heat.

It becomes difficult, at times, to strip myself nude before the moon, equally naked, bare butt and pale

but seduced! By these nebulae — ah!

These contoured silhouettes of dust and gas, you can’t quite see with your naked eye,

not because they’re small, not at all, you are.

Between stars, dark patches where light has not yet reached, gravity laying you flat, unworthy on the belly of earth,

and yet still it kisses you back.

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