In the gentle curve of a hip, there lies
A strength unspoken, a grace untamed.
A silent rebellion against the skies,
Where history and future are both named.

Her skin, a canvas of time’s embrace,
With every scar, a story unfolds.
An echo of resilience, a sacred space,
A tapestry woven with threads of gold.

Her hands, creators of worlds and dreams,
Crafting life from the soil of her soul.
Each movement a symphony, each touch redeems,
Her essence, an orchestra, whole.

In her eyes, the universe finds its home,
A galaxy of thoughts, vast and deep.
Within her gaze, the stars freely roam,
A sanctuary where secrets sleep.