Rigid Moon

I saw you under palm trees
You didn’t mind they whistle hot
I saw your dark hair shimmering
Beneath a white shall
Like a crescent over the night
I felt like weaving my hands
Through your hair
And smell its dark forests
There was a rigid moon above
Watching you whispering prayers
I felt jealous of your God.
In what love you will last?
In what promise you will trust?

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