The moon sits
Like a firstborn whose place has been taken
By her father’s sun
Simply because she is a woman
August night is her birthnight
And no star is here to give her wishes
Even the ducks have turned their backs on her
Take solace, opalescent moon
Breathless and sultry
On a humid August night
For Eugenia writes you thousand consolations
Exquisite poetry
To be sung for a thousand years
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