For Amie.
my woman made of star stuff
drops galaxies within me
where they burn and swirl in sync
with the rhythm of her step
my woman made of star stuff
catches the lamplight
in the crook of her elbow
inviting me to kiss her just there
my woman made of star stuff
wraps her lanky limbs
around my pudgy frame
and makes me beautiful
my woman made of star stuff
refuses, REFUSES to watch movies
in anything but their original format
going pink with passion explaining this
my woman made of star stuff
weeps with heartbreak
and honors me by letting me comfort her
when life flops to the floor in tatters
my woman made of star stuff
moves with sweet defiance
through a world of hostility
rather than hide in safety
my woman made of star stuff
drops galaxies within me
where they burn and swirl
and etch her name
into the fabric of my space
the breath of my time
