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Midnight Serenade
Stars as brass in the upper register.
Midnight in New Orleans turns the sky into venue. Stars emerge one note at a time — cosmic parade, moon as horn, velvet as curtain.
Wonder is not innocence. It is attendance. You look up because the street already taught you to listen for surprise.
Celestial shrine is declined. Accurate is diamonds you cannot own briefly borrowed while the city hums below.
The parade continues after you lower your eyes.
JV · Dark Heart Labs