Charting the Stars
When she charts the stars
I fall from the heavens
And slide by her eyes
Of deep glowing moons.
I hold the orbs of her planets
High and firm
With the force of a galaxy.
I glide down the valley
To where the river flows
Inside her swan white thighs
Through the branches of thistle
Swaying to and fro in the lockstep
Of love.
I tell her in the evening
That we have the world at our fingertips
Spinning perfectly on an axis
Of great beginnings.
She smiles and looks back at the stars
And I climb back up again.
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