Star
I saw you on an altar
and remember why I dreamed
of emeralds and redwoods
shot through sand-filled eyes.
You were simple, gold-stitched and pure.
A farmer's cloth.
A band of pearls.
I stood with the anticipation of song
to be soaked by your fabric
and kept as your meaning.
Your memory.
Your birthright.
Your song
from mine.
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