I find her in my bedroom, grinning,
Messy and mischievous, her dark hair down
“I just needed a kirby grip.”
She stiffens up, stands straight,
Solid and framed, the low curves in the light found
Her a goddess. I love her.
She pins them up. Two buns, like Leia.
It’s fashion. I know the men I hate think of rounded
Things often. It is not so.
The moons of Jupiter have
lit in her hair, pale and circling, orbiting the crown
of the girl who slips in and out
of my dreams like a breathless shadow.