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Sailor Moon

An arctic owl
Perched on a brush stroke cloud
Stares coolly down
Between the silhouettes
Of phantom boughs

Through the sultry southern twilight
It swoops past pane and sill
On milky wings
Settling talons
Deep in my breast

The incense of the meadow
And the throb of the air against quills
Are my only tokens
As it lifts back into the night
Carrying away a piece
Of my foolish heart

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