here's to you, moon
and all the wine drank
under your eyes,
and to lovers who feel
your breath on their necks
and streaked ripples
cutting through ink black puddles
and to hanging on
to the last streaks of the night
and all the wine drank
under your eyes,
and to lovers who feel
your breath on their necks
and streaked ripples
cutting through ink black puddles
and to hanging on
to the last streaks of the night
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