Tea Cups in Outer Space

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I found a memory underneath a piece of wallpaper; it peeled into a capability of everlasting motion.
Cornerstone brow, ships clasp, stutters mountain… Lands.
Backdrop; vacant patterns.
No, the substance isn’t in that formation or the fertility of the ghouls.
Tear the cloth — induced love picked a corner to turn into a fairy tale.

This is official PROJECT ASTRAL poetry

-Raphael Baldaya

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