Stars and Angels

Anna Netrebko sings a song to the moon,
as I lay in bed, clean and washed out from
the day just past, letting it all slip from me.
 That sweet, evocative voice ringing in the dark,
as I fill my ceiling with every star and angel,
every sweet thing still holding on within me.
 The moon I can’t see out my window, the loss
of the wonder I had as an innocent child, I find
a little piece of it still shimmering in her voice.
 And, as I slip away to the darkness, to sleep,
I know the longing of the rusalka for her lover,
for the one alway desired, that’d make us whole.
 Stars and angels become diving galaxies, and longed
for lovers call our names and welcome us home forever,
as sleep puts it’s kisses on our eyes, on all that is good.

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