Arm Hairs

Under the yellow moon
shadows are mistaken for life
our heartbeats set a marching tune
leading us to exposed, fatal heights

We stand on the edge arms raised
palpable darkness arrests our bodies
In alignment without praise 
our  arm hairs whisper love stories

And when they turn to hold eachother
of course  they’re already falling
emboldened by stars as their cover
Like entwined comets exhaling

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