the dusting of cherry red, the burnishing, and the cleansing of love and joy


some days the sun is just a dull enough shine that i feel like i have the chance to shine like the sun

some nights the moonlight casts a shadow on my pallid parts and a glow in my deepest cavities

these days, i dig my heels into the earth, stirring and kicking up dust over the cherry red.

these days, its beauty holds a half burned match stick to my raging forest fire.


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