Perhaps she is a masterpiece
Botticelli’s Venus
Galileo would have loved
The galaxy hidden between her ribs
Perhaps she is a sinner
Who sets fire to your mind
With her technicolor words
Fragile like glass
Perhaps she is poetry
With tinkling laughs
And metaphors in her veins
Perhaps she is a beautiful mess
With a dead heart that aches for some angel
And sad eyes that no one understands
A corpse with a restless soul
Sewn together by rose lips
A living work of art