When reading the stars, you must look at your-

self, and they have rocks and puddles to make
it that much easier to do so – sure,
it's narcissistic, but that's no mistake:
In fact, people should self-explore deeply,
stir the puddles that reflect their faces,
regard their features streaked so completely
by the whiskers of the astral traces:
Your fresh countenance is my comeuppance,
I told myself in a dream about time,
and I saw words and moonlight and romance,
as the sun commenced its bright, upward climb:
And it caught me in-between bright and right,
so I spit in my mirror, waved goodnight.
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