De Jackson

most mad and moonly she’s a little crazy, right? half, at least. cloaking herself in inky star-spilled darkness, unmasking her many moods; this waxing and waning at whim crescent grimace gloating, gibbous eye hypnotizing tumbled time and tide fat and full and freckled face beckoning, reckoning you are but earthbound, and she, a beacon of the night who can neither…

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