the infinite, sugary cosmos arranged in constellations, universes made from protein the map lies before me, perplexing our quirky blood agreeing in the dark corners explaining our green eyes and Swedish milk teeth we’d war and scream go down in the sand like on Normandy but she had fiercely grabbed bullets from the air as they hurtled towards me; keeping a steady rhythm a furious, timed rhythm the eyes blinked back at her chaos welling up inside she remained in my vision a solid beacon of light but even the sun can be broken with a prism, I suppose (her bird legs and willow arms were no exception) I’d turn my heart over examine it, rub my fingers against it’s cotton surface keep her face in my mind the intriguing Byzantine corridors of line and shape fit tightly infinite no exception