The tongue that touches the sky—
the sky of your mouth—
once wandered through your sharp teeth,
touching your lips
with bloodied taste buds.

Shooting stars beneath my skin,
a bittersweet Milky Way
mixing together on the tip of my lips.

A thousand times—
galaxy explosions
too unreal
for reality to bear.

This is my insanity—
even if this never existed,
whatever was a creation of mine.

I believed.

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