The Creation of Andrew
Inside the Sistine dome
of her mind
the superstar with the white shirt
open to the navel,
floating on a cloud
of ecstatic music,
are reaching out a hand
to a boy called Andrew,
clothed in nothing;
his initiative draped lazily
over his thigh.
Her hair flowing just right,
matching the colour code
of her attire,
she holds out a hand to him,
allowing a curve to show half hidden
for later exploration.
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