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The moon’s a trampoline you know,

she says to anyone who’ll listen.

And when you jump around you go

up, like you’re filled with nuclear fission.

The moon’s a brighter place she says,

except when the earth over shadows.

Then the place gets cool and greys,

but at least the the sun don’t knows.

The moon’s the place for me she nods

with a waggle of bangs and curls

cause up in the air there ain’t no gods

and no heaven and hell-fire swirls.

The moon’s for all, she understands,

but not many join her for long.

Just the swirls of stars with arms

out-stretched and the silent song.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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