crown

starlit night

lingers

in the folds

of her gown

that fall nearest

simplicity

of eloquent

biology

occam might

never have found

thousands of atoms

spin and twirl

as the music

of movement

tiptoes

to the edge

of all comprehension

slips

breathing the physics

of sound

falls

in the laughter

of motion

and is then caught by hand

I hear a voice calling

to inquire after her answer,

"would you wear this, love?"