Bruno Is Orange

The long clean line of mascara painted in the mirror by my hand when steady and my eyes wide open
led directly to the quaffed up hair and two spritzes of perfume walked into and mashed between wrists

by the end my equator was wobbling
by the moonset I carried my sandals
the sun woke to peel and squeeze me

The long sash around the center of the planet where days and nights are equal I’m reminded in Astronomy
half asleep and healing is not a circle but flat at the poles and bulging because of the speed of its spinning

by the end my equator was wobbling
by the moonset I carried my sandals
the sun this morning to skin and pour me

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