Honeymoon

Honeymoons and stars of milk,

The sun kisses her on the nose and like windflowers, freckles bloomed,

marking a path where a ray of light had previously laid.

They are to skin what stars are to the skies. 

Moss is to stone what skin is to the bones.

She has a name engraved in her heart chambers,

One that is wrapped around her heartstrings.

Each beat pronounces a syllable.