Her name is Sandra and she tastes like stars.
Her hands have calluses
That form from years of fighting
Some terror deep within her---
She still retains her perfect nails,
Painted a deep shade of red-
Similar to the core of the sun-
Which scratch lightly on your arm
And play with your hair on warm afternoons.
Her legs are in constant motion,
Jiggling up and down in a way
That grates your nerves for anyone else,
But you know she has too much energy
And is always ready to run-
She told you as much
When she finally let you into her past,
And you gripped her hand
So you could be a part of her future
And traverse through the unknown in unity
Like you are exploring unchartered space together.
Her name is Sandra,
And you love the way it rolls off your tongue
When you declare your love
And list each galaxy you find in her eyes;
It is only natural that when you kiss her,
She tastes like stars
And some of your cherry lipgloss
That found its way into the cosmos.
You could travel to space
And lift your face towards the heavens,
But you know in your heart
That it would be nothing compared to her.
When she breaks the kiss to hold your hand,
You get sucked into her beauty-
She is Sandra and her touch is a blackhole
And you will be the first woman
To enter this enigma of space
And face the consequences
And love the possibility that maybe-
Just maybe-
It all ends with
Sandra.