immersed in thoughts of you.
do you see the sunset and
hope your lasso will
capture the moon and
pull you from your raging sea?
your lasso is
soiled by faded moon
from previous attempts
to fly.
the fibers unravel
and slip from your grasp--
burning failure stings your skin.
you once pulled the moon close,
but the tide of
your ocean
overthrew you
and you sank.
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