She’s got stars in her sockets
Little lockets for the unseen
And empty

I find hollows in her form, little
Worm holes for comets to kiss and
Listen to the way she turns black holes
Like interplanetary coins across her fingers
They linger
Twirl and re-whirl around her nail
Pale strands of starlit masses that hook
And weave into the milky way
Of her hair, where
Constellations pulse and wane
Into waves of dark matter

I touch Saturn’s rings in her ribs
Such rippled space swells and wells
To her chest, where nests of Aquila,
Star-sign nipples sing out with a
Sigh

I count pulsars and snowflake stars
In the sky and
Down her spine that aligns
With the sign of Cygnus
Pale frailty and light
Wings for flight
And otherworldly
Lusts