Begging hands

even when you shy away
The stars still sparkle on you
even when you stiffen your shoulder
The clouds still wrap, wool around you
even when you turn away your face
The boughs still weigh down 
unto your cheeks catching dews
And the sun and moon still kiss your brow
under your cloak
And the ground you walk upon, the mud
hungers to hold you to skin.
Then lift your begging hands out, 
paint your colors to mirrors all you want
but everything outside, still beats to you







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