Stars fall as fickle as leaves out here
casting their shadow against this muggy
little windowpane
I imagine us as them
painted in that sky with not a
shred of distance between us
and it warms me
burns me up like those balls of gas
flashing pentagrams save for that
that washed up cold
Orion is my only familiar
If I had been her I would have did
the same for you
for that is where you shall lie
in the vault of heaven
immeasurable and immortal
looked upon for years
Éloa 
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