Galaxies run through her veins.Electricity emits from hairsOn her sweet, blue head.And yet,She believesShe isOrdinary.Sweet child,There is nothing ordinaryAbout a revolution.I think it's time to start your own -Don't you?
You were wearingA red hot chili peppers' shirt,And you asked me whatI wanted to do.You drove us to the wallThat overlooked the city skyline,And we laughedAnd laughedAnd laughed -Until you kissed me.I am grateful for your initiative
When I behold a forest spreadWith silken trees upon thy head;And when I see that other dressOf flowers set in comeliness;When I behold another graceIn the ascent of curious lace,Which, like a pinnacle, doth shewThe top, and the top-gallant too;Then, when I see thy tresses boundInto an oval, square, or round,And knit in knots far more than I.Can tell by tongue, or True-love tie;Next, when those lawny films I seePlay with a wild civility;And all those airy silks to flow,
Sweet serene sky-like flower,Haste to adorn her bower;From thy long cloudy bedShoot forth thy damask head!New-startled blush of Flora,The grief of pale Aurora,Who will contest no more,Haste, haste to strew her floor!Vermilion ball that's givenFrom lip to lip in heaven,Love's couch's coverlet,Haste, haste to make her bed!Dear offspring of pleased VenusAnd jolly plump Silenus,Haste, haste to deck the hairOf the only sweetly fair!