a universe churns out at the sway of her hips;
that twinkle is a star in her eye;
a galaxy rests in the curve of her lips,
and her hair is as expansive as the sky.
her body is strung together by every constellation,
and her hands leave black holes in lovers hearts.
the pace of her celestial tread is a orbital continuation
since time's birth, that never stops, only starts.
the Andromeda's prize.