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  • Luna

    You peek in my window
    like a bashful lover lurking behind bare branches,
    yet, you orchestrate the night.
    Your entrance is grand; my bed, your stage.
    You peel away the dusk breaking open love songs
    like the stave of sweet birth.
    Lovers stymied by sunshine
    feel their way to each other by the command of your song.
    As darkness tiptoes through the room,
    you seep in spilling over satin sheets.
    You reach for me; I pull away,
    you follow wrapping me in your warmth.
    You leave me no choice but to fall into you.
    Only with the croon of the dewy dove can I be free.

    Pamela Wilonski
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