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Harvesting Moonlight She sleeps lying on her side in the bed with the ghostwhite light flowing through blinds light swirling in electric eddies and crystallizing on strands of hair, influencing her dreaming of this September Moon, the lover standing over her sighing like the sound of light as it seeps through seams, standing straight as a shaft of light, she now awake in the night harvesting the liquid moon who spills its bounty across the landscape of her spectral skin sticky as the dew on a faery's wing and wet as the lunar tide.