Held your hands to my shining eyes, and watched as the rain ran through your fingers.
Little boy, made of plastic, doing what you do every day... in a desert of footprints so numerous the ground resembles the cratered moon... erase your mind. or melt, in the light of a burning black sun made of so many shards of broken glass.
Because your shards have been already melted down, and molded to shape a reflective moon.
Because your shards have been already melted down, and molded to shape a reflective moon.