the innocence of a starry night

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we were approaching the bridge,
the swirl of colors and patterned reflections
against the water was one
only imagined on an artist's pallet.
wind blew the beauty right into my mouth,
and i was unable to swallow it all.
the kind that swells in your heart,
takes the breath out of your lungs in strings;
stars glowing in your wondrous irises
because you know no words, pictures, paintings
or other could perfectly place the same feeling
in the heart of another.

from this scene,
a harmony of friendly smiles,
soft playing jazz broadcasting
from the outskirts of city dances,
the bright stars unfolding with growing darkness,
i felt the center of the universe
weighing down my shoulders and lifting my legs.
what is it about these nights,
the bonds i've made with the natural world,
that magnetize the beholder?
the lust for neon signs in the night life
is one stronger than those of red lips.
i see skylines behind my eyelids,
galaxies lay in my taste buds,
the wind is a comforting hand on my back.
how can i explain it any other way?

when i stand strong,
hair pulling in the breeze,
i stare into the reflections of a starry night
and the loose ends of my body connect.
i understand my drawbacks,
my flaws, and nativities.
i see the world as a whole picture,
an all inclusive panoramic view
in which i am so small.
and in that, as i close my eyes,
feel the jazz under my fingertips,
i am everything and nothing.
i am aged and new.
i could touch the darkened clouds
or sink into the dirt.

and they ask why a smile plays upon my lips.
well, how could it not?

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