(Dys)morphia
The sun never shines
on this side of the spectrum
Our celestial bodies resting,
in its dark reflection,
only illumination are the stars.
The Stars,
each burning gas that once fed our essence
before its divine formation,
casting out the hideous during the chrysalis.
Former beacons now lying in dark matter
festering in each space
deepening ourselves within its presence.
Our souls sacrificed.
Our celestial bodies are no longer astral
space has consumed our aesthetic
vibrant to pastel
transparent now opaque
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