Colorless Sky

Colorless sky
Her sky is bleached grey,
The stars have been plucked out
With chapped fingertips
Then the man
He touched a cloud
Pressing it softly
To his lips
I count the days
The dark ones come
I catch the dreams
He ate the sun
Webbed fingers
Grip and clutch at dawn
The world needs not to
Seem forlorn


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