Woolgathering

You bleed the night sky bright,
swallow the moon-covering cumuli
like cotton candy on a hot summer’s day.
How wasted your wings must be,
carrying the burden of our specters;
how sleepy your mind must be,
lending all your wishes to us.
You quench the rain with sunlight,
dismantle the shadow-casting nimbi
like a toy after a prurient afternoon.

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