i thought that your flesh
should be the perfect canvas
and she gazed into the hand glass
hoping the reflection would sing something new
she bottled some earth for safe keeping
away from where souls (mostly of shoes) would crush it.
to look at the cosmos she had no reason,
with eyes blackened like basement horror,
the glory of lights three miles wide
fell silent on her like a scalpel splitting into gore
of alien skin, she was aboriginal,
but isn't home worth searching the galaxy for?