She has galaxies under Her skin.
Flashes of starlight and fire,
explode from the melody of Her laugh.
Purple promises draw me closer,
the smell of rain,
the crunch of Autumn leaves sparking
red and orange under bare flesh.
Held only by strands of silk ghosting my lids,
the taste of a November bonfire on my lips.
The air is a tornado spinning,
thrashing, whipping every surface of skin;
desperate heat, back and forth until
Exploring the trembling planes of Her universe,
the ups and downs.
The taste of salt.
My name, spun out like a thread against the stars;
Her voice forming new constellations.
Her eyes glazed like honey.
Inky and blown.
Filled with the wonder of a new world.