every night the sun sinks
and sets fire to the map
and it burns
from the outside in,
extinguished by moonlight and stardust
and when I walk outside they pull on my clothes
my hair
pulling my face to the sky,
and there’s a line that stretches from each end of the world
marking the sky the inside of a globe.
stars fall like raindrops
rolling off of your skin,
making jewels in your hair,
and every morning we walk the map
making our marks and erasing them again
and we burn it
from the inside out;
and falling,
and glowing
and flaking off,
drifting along ink lines;
following the map.
and we feel it burn but it’s beautiful
so we don’t care
we just flake away
and make room for better and brighter things
on the map

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This is definitely a sketch, wrote it in about 10 mins but hey it’s better than most of my rough drafts that start with a couple words or phrases and some weird abstract doodles.