Her eyelashes are nebulas
Her freckles are the stars
Her fingertips spin galaxies
And string along the meteors
Her hair is strewn with planets
That spin and orbit endlessly
Twin wings of stardust feathers
Carry her to infinity
She inhales a flavorless void
Exhales planets, moons, delicacies
She leaps and twirls with bare feet
And skirts sewn from strands of galaxies
She pirouettes with effortless grace
Through wrinkles in time and creases in space
Shimmering new stars fall into place
In the weaving path she continues to trace
Solar systems decorate
Her ankles and fingers, her wrists and waist
The darkness slowly dissipates
As her dance accelerates
Supernovas burst against her skin
Leaving black holes in their wake
They draw moons and stars and planets in
That she recycles and recreates
About her she builds a universe
Love and hate, kindness and sin
She creates life and death, an endless cycle
But one where she doesn't fit in
She dances alone.
YOU ARE READING
Misty (a collection of my poetry) {{COMPLETE}}
PoetryA road trip of poetry, I guess. Care to come along? Highest rank: 267 in poetry Read my third poetry book, "hush." I have high hopes for it. Read my first poetry book, "where the bluebirds aren't." (Or don't, it's old and rather embarrassing). ⚠️...
