You are not magical and mystical
as my favorite
She is voluptuous, full
and circular like our original shape
She is effervescent and coy
She beckons me to the pool
to look at her reflection
In it I see esteem beauty
encircling
playful woes of another day
She loves to instigate
endless peek-a-boo
along Cumulus Row
She leaves me longing
at first blush when her starlit
curtain is drawn
oh Crescent
Your forlorn jealousy
should be stacked, pasted
written on the wind
It is unwarranted yet benign
For you have looked behind yourself
and beheld her
etched kindness
her intimidating haunt and
her incredible gaze
as she dances along the open plain
You long to be something you will never be
round
voluptuous
most opportune
my favorite
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