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the universe unfolds in surreal ways,
through the stardust that makes up your bones
and a raging horizon that dwells in your eyes
it speaks a language that transcends space-time
a ceaseless book where your soul ultimately reclines
in order to be birthed, distant nebulas collide
you've got cosmic wonders stirring up, all you have to do is look inside
YOU ARE READING
Throes of Spring ✔️
Poetry[FEATURED] godhood is just like girlhood: a begging to be believed
