Loose locks, tumbling over crisp sheets
Sloped eyebrows, cosmic roots from lost dunes
Soft light on dark skin
Contrast of muscular extrusion on smooth planes

Two minds, as one,
“And I read those pages, she really loves me, baby”

Spaceship whip hurtling through space and time
Black under shirt, tucked into Levi denim
Vintage red amp cloth Converse

There need not to be acknowledgement of what was already understood.

Shiny sine waves
High arches, leading the way

Sparse freckling on alien expanses
Potential energy, strength at rest

Crying lungs, a gentle reprieve
Shouting out
“Oel ngati kameie”

The atmosphere the two always created, a 6th dimension
A tall ship, and a star to steer her by

Oversized tee and shorts,  hanging loosely from her controlled curved and maintained edges
And a soft, clear crescent on her lips.