She is in the night sky,

or rather its shadow.

a wisp, a woman,

a ghost that split the cosmos,

and made the horizon into her wings.

They say she is close

when you taste chaos upon your tongue;

the pop fizz of death 

and the sweet tang of sleep.

She is the first goth

and learn to twist the constellations

into a corset,

and her dance brought awe

until daylight sneaks into view.

A jealous daughter, daylight is

and she chases her mother darkness

from the stage with disco balls, pink confetti,

and bird call cackles.

She is the night sky

and twists us within her view,

and you can almost hear her calling

in every night breeze.

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