The moon hid behind bare trees, summoning.
You played like a child somewhere in my periphery,
and I tried to fling myself into that purple-blue.
I was swinging hard- angry, thrilled, desperate,
remembering her, thinking of you.
And it's as you say, I can't change it all.
But I can, I can
swing my heart up to the sky,
attempt to bridge the gap between
their tiny fingers and the hand behind the moon.
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