Her eyes shone
and reflected every one of the
galaxies above us.
The ones that
freckled the sky
in the same manner that
the shadows of the night
wove and created
patterns on her skin.
I swore that God used
the same paintbrush to
paint the sky that he used
to paint
the gleam in her eyes.
The one that allowed for that reflection.
Looking at her
was like looking through a telescope;
possibilities never ended.
Dreams were made upon these
galaxies.
Lord knows mine were.