The Moon`s spilled ink.

First, I look at the moon.
And all of its intense Light shines through me
like a star choir,
singing in my throat,
in the wish to let it all out.

I spill my divine silver
cause I do not reflect
back to the moon.

But I want to, oh, how I want to!
I want to be a pearl
in the choir`s lake.

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