22.07.07 |

I am armed
With an ability to fortify an idea
Similar to Eskimo and snow
So particular
That no one is left guessing
the vertical or breadth;
Fondness, a type of craziness (for)
Taking a shine (to)
But actually the mirror of.
I am the one left beaming,
Resembling the ability to read by the moon,
Which although bright, is reflecting the brilliance of (you)
I find myself fortunate.
The world will not stop,
But it will never
never (ever) see the phase
Of pitch night,
or even just a sliver.

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