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Statues

I wait for the moon to rise,
So I may stir from my stony rest,
And unleash myself onto the world.
The silence feels velvety warm
On my dry skin,
Restoring its healthy lush and spring.
What a pity that others cannot see
This youthful, invigorated, opulent, glowing spirit.
Only in the darkness do I feel this way,
For once the light comes,
I crumble back into cold marble,
With glassy eyes.
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