Galaxies

You contain galaxies on your shoulders, 
 in freckles and scars, 
and all that is alive and good 
has been born between your ribs. 

I can still taste the echo 
of last night's stars 
in your morning exhales and sighs. 
We are a universe, expanding.

Before the sun even considers rising, 
before the night concedes to day, 
lean in closer and forget your name.
For just a moment, stay.

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