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?"