A softening, perhaps, a spark of silence spreading through her mask... an Odyssey of light and dark a question she would have to ask. (Chorus) Two little gods, whose time runs out, decided theirs was best spent on each other, as the sun grew out its hair, and purple cushioned dawn. Inside the moon, the tickertape of colors ranged from green to blue. The deep black lens within held shape an extra moment, maybe two. Chorus There was an echo of the paused black lens within the eye she faced. It seemed to her that stillness caused her love when shared with time to waste. Chorus Although it seems they hadn’t much to learn, they had a lot to teach: a syncopated breathing; touch; two needs which answered, each to each.
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