a cosmos hides inside her skull,
she's a galaxy all on her own,
she's made of stars and moonbeams,
but she looks like flesh and bone.
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constellations scatter across her skin,
although it's hard to tell,
each dot and freckle on her cheeks
are where shooting stars fell,
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her eyes glow soft, two twinkling lights
her song is spoken sun.
moonbeams pour from her fingertips,
a symphony played for one,
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every note spins you in an orbit
unlike any other
a chain reaction of planets clashing
she's space; so bright and cluttered.
||◇||
it's hard not to be hypnotized
by a galaxy of light and sound,
every piece blinks in Morse code;
in this kingdom she wears the crown.
YOU ARE READING
Silent Mouths, Rambling Minds
Poetry"Those who speak the least have the most interesting things to say,"
