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Restful
Falling like meteors was the snow
coming from the void,
the universe of ice,
to land upon my flaming cheeks.
The flakes leave craters,
a series of speckled brown dots
recreating the constellations above,
and then melt into teardrops when
stardust embraces flesh.
They drip, bleed down
the curve of my cheek
into an exalted graveyard,
and sleep,
forgotten in the void.
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