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VIII - Jupiter
It was dark and cloudy, cold
but a weak light,
a candle in a rusty white lantern,
was dancing silently.
A rusty table, in the middle
of the garden, where we sat to talk.
Memories of being warmed up
by a fireplace.
Looking up, the sky was black,
not completely, the city lights
looked like muted fireworks.
The stars were not there.
We saw you there, Jupiter
the only little star coming to us.
Your crossed-eyed look hit us
in the deep.