Trample the road laid out for me and kiss the clouds instead;
Sink your teeth into our pink-streaked skies
And wash them down with heavy gulps of sea.

Scramble the words you have been saving for me and erase
the memory of my laughter if you still
Possess it. Which of your hands
touched me last? Burn it.

Blow the ashes into constellations
on my face. I am the moon and stars.
This is my only glow–
As for the sun: Do you believe he understands?
When I no longer think of you each day, I’ll let you know.

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