Windows unencumbered by the passing
moon near perfection never reached
stir shadows, all their colours leached
as the tide sits patient, pillaging
these salt and pepper cloth-bound skies,
sipping on night’s silent feast.
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Windows unencumbered by the passing
moon near perfection never reached
stir shadows, all their colours leached
as the tide sits patient, pillaging
these salt and pepper cloth-bound skies,
sipping on night’s silent feast.