Lines on my hand~
defeated me in the way~
that I felt like handicapped.
Wish I could have a tattoo~
for my fate~
or a tattoo for my mind~
or one for my stars.
And when I went~
to fetch you moon~
stars pricked my feet~
and bled them.
Walking on the clouds~
somehow~
I led to the Sun~
and I burnt my hands~
head down~
I came to you~
empty hand~
only but with a boil.
You held my hand~
caressed and kissed~
there I realised that~
the boil was moon shaped~
and it turned to be~
a GOOD DAY.
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