Once the sun has risen a hundred times.
I start to wander this melody made in clouds.
Down far from wandering, and thoughtfully above all else.
Once the moon has risen a hundred times.
I go to places I have never seen before.
Made in the constellations of rising dreams.
Once the stars have risen a hundred times.
Everything else is simply forgotten.
For it is this wide-spread seizure of beauty that captures all.
It is the spirals of stars that have healed my cancer.
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