Galaxies on her lips
And stars across her eyes
Fuel spent from starships exhale from her lungs
Propelling her forwards backwards sideways and upward thisways thatways
Inways outways and downways
Anyway is fine because that is where she is meant to be
Downways may be up and upways may be down but there’s galaxies
You think you’re in a spot?
That spot is meant to be
Change what you can and learn to accept what you can’t
This time we have on the clock is a gift and you will treat it as such.
There’s asteroids and collisions in you.
There’s craters and mountains,
Turmoil of rolling waters
Vast, expanding valleys of green and brown.
Brown is pretty
And so is a black hole.