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When the moon stops shining its loving light on my upturned face. When the moon's acne beauty explodes into a jagged mosaic. When the moon's voluptuous body exposes its mundane entrails to masked, dead men. When the moon's romantic promise fades out with the day. When the moon's white turns permanently to black. When the moon's love stagnantly devolves. When the moon's mystery buckles before humans.

This is the day that I die.