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If a frosty starSips a drop of joy,Will he flicker brightlyWhile the cooling cloys?
Or might the morphFrom lord to queenForce a positionAnd warp him green?
For this, no answer.The sky is mute.The beams' dilationsSpangle and toot.
Painting is 'Night With Stars' by Van Gogh
Posted at 05:19 AM in Art, Poetry | Permalink
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