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Artist
She holds the moon
like a secret wish the world forgot,
a pulse of light between her hands.
Gold gathers where her heart once ached,
and the sky leans close
to listen to her silence.
Even the air trembles,
unsure whether to pray
or to fall in love.
Her eyelids close,
and for one quiet breath
the night believes in miracles again.
This poem is for Ingrid
The line "Even the air trembles"
was written by Valeria
as a comment for a dream of mine.