|And moonlight ushers her blessings on your body as you rest.
She reads the stress pouring out from your forehead in dreams.
Timid whimpers the puppy saddened by a scolding.
Cowering as age develops by the minute.
Even by the second.
Not at all as you had reckoned.
Diana, huntress snatches your sword.
By the face of morning’s crispy sun.
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