Stars

You are poison that kisses

my day away and fills

my night with stars.

We are

everything I ever wanted to be.

Strong, brave, free;

we are a country built on poverty

and rich with culture.

Trucks become limousines

but I will always be free

from the lights

of cameras.

Just keep making me stars, baby.

Keep kissing me goodnight

and say goodbye

to the things we used to be.

Tee shirts are drenched with

sweaty, exasperated dreams.

I want to bring back old days

and make them new with

dazzling stars and dirty trucks.

Capture us in photographs

and burn away the paper

until we are pure of such

material things.

We are a country; we are free.

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