she tipped the sky, crushing Atlas under milleniums of elephantine duties and hermetic spells,
her hair, tangled meadows of thorns, ripped away tumbling viridian expanses of trees and dusted mauve forests of lavenders,
out from the Earth she sprouted virulent vines watered by hell, taking baby step by baby step, each step creating earthquakes and tsunamis that aggressively kissed the feet of the gods,
out of the Earth came a woman who dreamed of midsummer nights spent o'er someone she could cherish like a sunflower, to be guarded in a clay blue vase in a heart she didn't have, but she lusted for love so badly that she threw Helios's chariot into the sea and drank the sun like you would with a bittersweet tangarine in winter, because,
because, she believed it would be enough to fill the hollow in her chest,
but in truth, it was not the universe, but only a fugacious daisy petal of hope that could,
