The Strange

So strange, how
before the light of the
newness fades you still
look into my eyes like I
contain the secrets of
all planets, all universes 
then as the eclipse passes
I become
just another star

It’s strange
the things one remembers
when unhappy
You would think
the memories would be
black and blue
as opposed to the
bright, startling yellow
of happier times, 
now past.

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